Canary
by Trackies
Summary: A year after the Great Thaw, word of Arendelle's beautiful sorceress queen has spread throughout the lands. Kings, princes, knights, suitors, and serfs all came to Arendelle to pay tribute to Elsa, but only one man came to Arendelle with an army at his back and a golden cage filled with wood for the pyre.
1. Chapter 1: Wildflower

Summary: A year after Frozen, word of the beautiful sorceress queen of Arendelle has spread throughout the lands. Kings, princes, knights, suitors, and serfs have all come to Arendelle to pay tribute to Elsa. But only one man came to Arendelle with an army at his back and a golden cage filled with wood for the pyre.

* * *

Prologue

\- The Sorceress and Her Knight -

* * *

The sorceress's hands caught the soft moonlight from outside. Her shackles lay at her feet in broken and twisted pieces of gold stained red with blood.

"..."

She heard her name in the softest whisper, but it sounded so far away. Her knight was at her feet, bleeding badly from a dozen wounds and struggling to even rise to his knees. Maybe he was the one speaking.

She stepped over the body of her knight and stepped out onto the balcony. It was still so hot outside, even this late into summer. Her bare feet left bloody footprints on the rugs as she approached the carved griffon railings. Looking down at the thousands upon thousands of lights from buildings and streets, she felt something stir.

Those people had saved her.

"Please," her knight said, desperation filling his usually unflappable voice. He had followed her out onto the balcony. She could hear his ragged gasps as his lifeblood drained onto the floor.

She did not spare him a second look.

The sorceress reached out her hand and the air around her became cold.

* * *

Chapter One

\- Wildflower -

* * *

Light from hundreds of bonfires shone with terrifying beauty on the plains, heedless of the storm Elsa had summoned to batter the army camped outside Arendelle's walls. Hailstones bigger than Elsa's fists crashed against the castle walls so fiercely they had begun to splinter the heavy wooded shutters drawn closed over all the windows to protect the glass and the people inside. Elsa could only imagine the devastation the storm was reaping on the army, who only had tents to protect them from the ice.

Yet, after three days of constant miserable rain and snow, the army showed no sign of retreating back to their ships, and the scouting reports said that they were entrenching themselves deeper into the land with each passing day.

It was infuriating.

Elsa tightened her grip on her balcony's railing, and felt the delicately carved wood warp beneath her fingers. The storm rumbled in a slow circle above her. Her hair was sodden with rainwater and droplets made their slow way down her face before freezing and falling. At her maid's insistence she had obliged to have a thick winter cloak wrapped around herself, but it did little to protect her from the rain.

"My lady?"

Elsa released her death grip on the railing and looked over her shoulder. A man with red-gold hair now streaked with silver stood in the crack between the balcony door and Elsa's bedroom. He held a heavy fur-trimmed cloak around his body, though he did not hunch into it. Captain Lennox had his shoulder's thrown back and his chin raised against the storm.

"Is there any news?" Elsa asked.

Lennox replied, "None of the doves we sent have returned, and none will until this storm ceases."

It was not the first time Lennox had made a comment about the supernatural storm, but Elsa was not in the mood to explain herself again. She turned her back on Lennox, so he could not see the way she bit her lip and asked, "What about...?"

Lennox seemed to understand and said, "Anna is gone, as you ordered. She is with three of my best, as well as that icefarmer of hers. They plan to cut through the forest to evade the army and seek refuge with Lord Bartholomew on the southern border."

"They won't be safe there for long," Elsa said.

"When the passes clear they'll travel south through the Southern Isles then onto Corona. She's in good hands, my queen."

"Who else knows?" Elsa asked.

"Just you and I," Lennox said. "If the city is taken it is best that no one knows where Anna is gone."

"I hope she'll be okay." Elsa said. Anna had not wanted to go. Elsa had pleaded with her for days, until finally she had _ordered_ Anna to leave.

_"You are my heir, the last hope Arendelle has," _Elsa had said coldly. _"I love you, but you will do as I say!_" And now Anna was gone and the castle seemed colder for it.

"I give you my word," Lennox said reassuringly in the same weathered, but oddly comforting voice Elsa had known since she was a girl. It was as though some of the weight on Elsa's shoulders had been lifted. She felt lighter for it, despite the weight of the foreign army camped outside our walls.

"What about them?" Elsa asked, jerking her head towards the bonfires.

"That's what I've come to tell you." Lennox stood beside her and looked out into the storm. "The Ovelians have sent an envoy to the city's gate."

Elsa looked up sharply. "An envoy?"

"The King of Ovelia wants to meet with you tomorrow morning."

"Why?"

"My best guess is that he wishes to discuss terms."

"What terms?"

"The terms of our surrender," Lennox said.

Elsa curled her hands into fists and felt them grow colder than the storm. "He expects me to surrender Arendelle to him?"

"A man like King Maximilian expects the sun and seas to obey his word and will," Lennox said dryly.

"I will not surrender Arendelle," Elsa said firmly.

"I believe he knows that as well as I."

"Then why bother discussing terms."

"King Maximilian has seven men for every one of ours. He has blockaded the bay and by now I'm sure he controls most of the routes out of the kingdom. He wants you to look upon those campfires and imagine the men who are sharpening their swords and spears and polishing their armour. Most kings will sit outside a city walls, feasting and laughing until the defenders are so weak with hunger they open the city gates and accept whatever terms will get them fed."

"You said 'most kings', but not Maximilian?"

"Maximilian did not win his throne by waiting for his enemies to surrender."

Lennox's words hung heavily in the air. Elsa had heard the rumours and reports from Ovelia as they came over the years. The old King Meriden had succumbed to a sudden illness which had left him bedridden and weak for more than a month. The kingdoms had expected the coronation of the King's eldest son soon after the funeral, but before Meriden had even been laid to rest, his sons and other noble lords had begun warring for the crown. After nearly a year of fighting, King Meriden's youngest son had taken the throne with the blood of his dead brothers at his feet. At least that's how the painted frescos depicted Maximilian's victory. Elsa had had a copy of the fresco displayed in the war room. She knew Maximilian's face almost as well as she knew her own.

"Where is this envoy?" Elsa asked.

"In the guardhouse warming by the fire. The way he tells it the storm nearly killed him on his way here. I have three men watching him and the entire south garrison nearby."

Elsa released her grip on the railing and heard the wood grown in relief. "I think I'd like to meet this envoy and give him my answer myself."

She took pleasure in the glint of surprise that passed over Lennox's face. He shifted his feet and said, "If that's your will, my queen."

"It is," said Elsa, smiling. "Don't worry; with you, three guards and a garrison surrounding me I doubt that one envoy will cause us harm, even if he were a secret assassin."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

The guardhouse lay on either side of the portcullis that separated Arendelle palace from the bridge leading to the rest of the city. Lennox paused before they walked out into the courtyard to pull his cloak tighter against his body. The twin fountains on either side of the courtyard were completely frozen over and the stone slabs were complete covered by fresh snow. Elsa felt no need for her coat and she certainly did not need Lennox to walk half a step in front of her to protect her from the worst of the wind.

When they reached the guardhouse Lennox threw open the door and held it open for Elsa to walk through.

Two guards were talking quietly at a knife-scarred table while a third stood warming his hands by the fire. All three stood rapidly and saluted Elsa with a closed fist across their hearts. Elsa could hear murmurs of talk and jokes from other soldiers deeper within the guardhouse that ran alongside and underneath the wall. The fire was burning merrily in the hearth, but it was the only light in the guardhouse and cast long, flickering shadows throughout the room.

"Relax," Lennox said to the two soldiers by the table. "How has our guest been?"

"He has been quiet, ser," one of the guards said as he lowered his arm and placed his hand on his sword hilt. "Hasn't said a word since we sat him down."

"We think he's a bit sore about the sack," the other guard said.

Elsa let her cloak drop to the floor as she walked around one of the tables to look at the man sitting by the fire. A thick soldier's cloak, dark red with no insignia, was wrapped tightly around his body. A yellowing sack had been gracelessly placed over his head. The bag moved slowly as Elsa padded closer and reached out her hand.

"My Lady?" Lennox said tightly – a worried warning.

"Has he been searched?" Elsa asked.

"He did not have a sword or shield with him, and we took his dagger from him before he was brought into city," the first soldier said. He reached into his belt and withdrew a large dagger dagger with a pale red gemstone forged into the hood. The blade gleamed brightly in the firelight, and the gemstone glistened as if covered in blood.

"Fancy blade," Lennox took the dagger from the soldier and inspected the dagger's sharpness with the tip of his finger. He winced as the blade pricked his finger. A droplet of blood ran down the blade's length.

"The men at the front gate put the sack over his head before we brought him into the city," Lennox said as he shook his finger and handed the knife back to the soldier. "We don't want his eyes making their way to a map or counting how many men are at each post. Spies and envoys are often one in the same."

"I don't think I could see well enough to do any counting in this dreadful storm – if I were a spy." The envoy's mouth was muffled by the sack.

Elsa reached out her hand again and pulled the bag off the envoy's head in one smooth motion. The envoy shook his head and sneezed violently, before reaching up and smoothing his length of well-kept brown hair away from his face. He glanced around the guard house for a moment before his eyes settled on Elsa. A small, contented smile appeared on his face as he rose lowered himself to one knee and bowed before her. He ignored the sharp intake of breath from the soldier's at his sudden movement.

"Queen Elsa," the envoy said with a honeyed tongue, head still bowed. "Your beauty has made this journey all the worthwhile. I would offer you my blade, but I fear I have lost it."

"Stand," Elsa said as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and frowned at the envoy. "What is your name?"

The envoy straightened and looked at Elsa with interest. "My name is Aedan, Your Majesty."

The envoy's thick cloak was open at the chest, revealing a red leather breastplate. He was not wearing chainmail or any kind of metal armour. In this cold, metal stuck and tore away skin and flesh.

"And your family name? Title?" Elsa asked. She had never known a royal envoy that was not from some noble house or another.

"My family name is of little consequence, I'm afraid," Aedan replied with that same small smile he wore when she had taken the bag from his head.

"In Arendelle it's considered courteous to give the queen the answer she desires," Lennox said sharply.

Aedan turned towards Lennox and inclined his head. "We have the same courtesies in the south, but, alas, I don't have a family name to give your queen."

"Bastard born," Lennox said, his upper lip curling. "Maximilian has bastards deliver his messages?"

"And pour his wine," Aedan replied quickly. "Sometimes we even fight battles and besiege castles."

Lennox opened his mouth to retort, but Elsa held out her hand to stop him and said, "It's okay, Captain." She turned her winter gaze back towards Aeden and was satisfied to see his breath turn into white clouds as he wrapped his cloak tightly around his body. "Say what you have come to say."

Aedan straightened his shoulders and said, "Queen Elsa of Arendelle. King Maximilian Du Von Ovelia wishes to meet with you tomorrow morning to discuss the terms of Arendelle's surrender."

Elsa and Lennox traded a look. _It was just like Lennox said._ Anger filled her chest and the guardhouse grew even colder. "You can tell your king I have no interest in discussing terms. Arendelle has been free for five thousand years, since Doran of the Frost drove the Ice Giants back into the mountains and built this castle to defend the harbour. We have fought raiders who want our gold and conquerors who want our land, but we still remain free."

Aedan inclined his head. "Respectfully, Queen Elsa, Arendelle has not faced a man like King Maximilian."

"He is just a man. He can die as easily as any other." Lennox said.

"Do you love your queen, Captain?" Aedan said.

Lennox bristled. "I would die for her."

Aedan nodded in approval. "Devotion is to be admired, but let me assure you that every man in the army camped outside your walls would die for their king."

"And every man in Arendelle would die for their Queen!"

"And so they will," Aedan said. "If your Queen will not agree to my king's terms. Our men will brave whatever storm is conjured to climb the walls. We will batter down your gates and set fire to the town. "

"You will find we are not so easily cowed." Lennox's fists were clenched tightly and his face shook with fury. "Ice is in our blood, boy."

"So I have become aware," Aedan said, with a significant glance at Elsa.

She lifted her chin as their eyes met – her icy blues and his golden browns. A sliver of fear pierced her heart, but she kept on looking until Aedan looked away.

"You may tell your king that I shall meet him at the gates two hours after dawn tomorrow," Elsa said.

"If we can see the dawn through these clouds," Aedan said, smiling. "The king will be pleased. He has wanted to meet you for a long time."

"You have your meeting, now it's time for you to run along and tell your king," Lennox said.

"Yes, of course," the envoy gave Lennox a slight bow before turning back to Elsa. "I have a gift for you, Queen Elsa."

Lennox placed a hand on his sword hilt as Aedan reached deep into his cloak and pulled out a wild blue rose which glistened prettily with ice and frost.

"I picked this between the encampment and this city," Aedan said. "It was so smothered by snow, I almost trod on it.

"We've heard tales of your sorcery in Ovelia. We heard about the beautiful snow witch with her heart carved from ice. How she nearly destroyed Arendelle with an eternal winter when she first became queen. I confess, I did not believe in half the things we heard, but then we sailed into the harbour and an ice storm appears from clear skies in the middle of summer . . . it makes me believe the stories of this sorceress queen must be true.

"When this storm passes and the frost thaws that flower will die." He paused and smiled again. "It will die even if I had left it in the ground. There is no life in frozen snow. You may kill Maximilian's soldiers and scatter his army to the winds with the strength of your storm, but you're killing your country too."

Elsa withdrew her hand and curled it into a fist by her side. Aedan looked at her almost sadly as he placed the rose delicately onto the nearby table.

"Take him back to the gates," Elsa ordered.

Lennox nodded and gripped Aedan by the shoulder as another guard replaced the sack over the Ovelian's head. The icy rose glittered in the flickering firelight as the two guards opened the door and led Aedan back out into the storm.

Elsa couldn't tear her eyes away.

"Queen Elsa?" Lennox asked, voice soft over the howling storm.

Elsa picked up the rose and ran a long finger over one of the frozen petals. It was glass and eerily cold to touch. The envoy was right: the rose was dead, and she was the one who killed it.

Just like she was killing her kingdom.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Author's Note: I found an early draft of this story on my computer from nearly a year ago. I spent the weekend cleaning it up and plotting out one large first act. I haven't read much Frozen fanfiction, so I couldn't tell you if a concept similar to this has been done before. I just wanted to explore what might happen when other kingdoms find out about the Ice Queen of Arendelle.


	2. Chapter 2: King Maximilian Du Von Ovelia

Chapter Two

\- King Maximilian Du Von Ovelia -

* * *

When Elsa woke up the next morning, the sun had conquered the remnants of her storm and was rapidly driving the cold away.

Without the swirling mass of rain and snow blocking her view, she could make out the orderly camp of the Ovelian army quite clearly. The smoke from their bonfires drifted in the gentle breeze towards the palace. Red-caped ants scurried about from the encampment to the ships, while others were digging trenches and other earthen fortifications in the still-frozen earth. Others were chopping down trees on the edge of the forest – more wood to feed their fires and repair the damage the storm had done to their ships.

She was picking at her breakfast when Lennox knocked on her door and came in.

"Good morning, my lady," he said gruffly. He was dressed in his full set of armour with the Arendelle crest brightly painted on the breastplate. The silvery hilt of his famous sword seemed to outshine the brightness of his armour.

"Expecting a battle this morning, captain?" Elsa asked with a gentle smile.

"Perhaps," Lennox said dryly. "I do not trust this Ovelian king."

"Neither do I," Elsa said.

Lennox sat down at the table next to her and sighed. "He will try to charm you, my lady," he said after a moment's pause.

"Charm me?" Elsa laughed. "Why would he want to do that?"

"He doesn't want a siege any more than we do. He will want to convince you that surrendering the kingdom is your only option."

"And here I thought he was here to court me," Elsa smiled lightly, even though she felt nothing but dread inside.

"Maximilian is a snake. Do not be deceived."

The smile slid from Elsa's face. "I won't be."

"You must turn your heart to ice when speaking with him. Don't allow him to take control. You must be the one to lead this discussion, not him."

Elsa laid a hand on Lennox's forearm and squeezed gently. "He won't trick me," she said reassuringly.

Lennox did not reply, nor did he try to move his arm away from her touch.

"I had a nightmare last night," Elsa said, more to fill the silence than to quiet the nervousness in her stomach.

"We all have nightmares, your majesty," Lennox replied. "What did you dream about?"

Elsa's brow furrowed and she bit her lip. "I dreamed that Arendelle was on fire. There was nothing I could do to stop it. Whenever I tried to make it snow, my hands would burn like they were on fire too and nothing would happen."

"That's not going to happen, sire. Arendelle will be fine."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I have faith in my queen," Lennox said firmly, and laid his other hand over Elsa's. His hand was so warm.

"What do you dream about?" Elsa asked.

Lennox sighed and looked away from her. "I dream about old battles; fighting side-by-side with your father."

"I miss him, and mother."

"As do I."

"Sometimes I wonder whether they would have been proud of me; if they would understand the things I've done." Elsa looked over to the table beside her bed, where the envoy's frozen blue flower sparked in the morning sun.

"I think they would understand," Lennox said slowly. "They may not have understood your sorcery, but they were always proud of you. I never want you to forget that. You're their daughter; their firstborn child. They loved you."

Elsa blinked away a tear. "What else do you dream about?" she asked, wanting to distract Lennox so he would not see her cry.

Lennox looked deep into her eyes. "Elsa, I-"

There was a knock on Elsa's door.

"Come in," Elsa said, face flushing as she took her hand away from Lennox's arm. She had not realised they had been touching for so long.

The door opened hesitantly and a young soldier with short, red hair slipped inside.

"What is it?" Elsa asked kindly.

The soldier cleared his throat. "The envoy from last night is at the gates. He says he wishes the honour of escorting you to King Maximilian's pavilion when you are ready."

Elsa looked at Lennox. "I had best get ready then."

"Take your time," Lennox replied as he stood up and followed the soldier out the door. "King Maximilian can wait a little longer."

When Elsa had washed and dressed herself, she allowed her maid to style her hair in an intricate braid she could never have done on her own. Lennox was waiting outside the door and nodded at her in approval.

"You look very regal," he said. "Beautiful.

Elsa smiled warmly at him and felt a touch of heat re-enter her cheeks.

"Let's go see what this king wants," Elsa said.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

"Queen Elsa," the king's envoy, Aedan, smiled brilliantly at her as he lowered himself to one knee just outside of the city gates. "And I thought the sun to be the most beautiful thing I saw this morning."

Elsa sniffed and raised her chin. "Good morning, envoy."

Aedan stood and greeted Captain Lennox, although with much less charm than he had delivered to Elsa. "Good morning, Captain Lennox. I asked about you while in camp last night. I was told about your role at the end of the Hundred Year War." He paused dramatically. "The famous soldier of Arendelle with the sword named Whisper." His eyes lingered on Lennox's sword. "That was some hard fighting. Is it true you cut your way through seven men to slay your enemy's commander?"

"What would you know about hard fighting?" Lennox could have spat the words at Aedan they had so much contempt dripping through them.

If Aedan noticed Lennox's hostility he gave no sign. "Enough to know that I have no desire to cross swords with you," he replied with a grin. "But I would like to see your famous sword one day."

Lennox scowled. "Take us to your king. We're wasting daylight."

"As you say," Aedan said.

He led Elsa and Lennox through the gates and out into the snow-covered grounds outside the city.

The Ovelians had erected a small red and gold pavilion just outside the city gates with a billowing roof and walls rolled up to allow the breeze from the harbour to sweep inside. Only a handful of people were under the cover of the pavilion, talking to a man sitting on a large chair right in the middle of the shade. As Elsa approached, they moved away and took up scattered positions around the pavilion.

"Queen Elsa Arendelle. It is my honour to present you to King Maximillian Du Von Ovelia, King of Ovelia and the Southern Lands." Aedan bowed low and stepped to the side, gesturing for Elsa to approach the man sitting on the throne.

Elsa breathed slowly through her nose and turned her face – and heart – to ice.

Maximilian Du Von Ovelia was a tall man, with hair like the spun golden thread from one of the old stories Elsa's father used to tell her as a girl. He rose from his throne - which Elsa suddenly realised was of two intricately carved griffons clawing at each other's throats - and smiled brightly down at her. The light from the twin fires on either side of the throne made his presence seem even more regal.

Elsa hated this man. She despised him more than she had ever despised anything before. From his fancy leather boots to that that bright, charming smile.

"Queen Elsa Arendelle," Maximilian announced, white teeth gleaming through his short, golden beard. "I stand in awe."

He bowed a low, sweeping bow.

Elsa felt a sliver of anger pound against her facade of icy calm.

"I'm glad we have the chance to talk, King Maximilian," Elsa said, inclining her head as courtesy required.

"And I'm glad the storm finally allowed this meeting to happen," Maximilian replied. "It's strange, isn't it? As soon as my envoy returned to me last night, the snow stopped and the clouds began to part. It was like the heavens approved of our meeting here today."

Elsa didn't respond, and glanced around the red-gold pavilion at the people Maximilian had brought with him to the meeting. Aedan had retreated to the back of the pavilion, almost behind Maximilian's throne, next to a much older man who occasionally coughed into a closed fist. Aedan smiled at her, and Elsa quickly looked away.

Next to the fire on King Maximilian's right hand side, a woman stood warming her hands by the fire. Black hair fell in soft ringlets around her face and back, matching perfectly with the low cut black dress and cloak she wore close around her throat. The woman looked up suddenly, as if sensing Elsa's gaze. Elsa would have flinched, had she not been trying so hard to remain cold and aloof. The woman's lips were stained dark purple and had twisted into some semblance of a smile, but it was her eyes that threatened to unnerve Elsa. They were crimson and as bright as blood on pale skin.

Maximilian continued speaking, "Allow me to introduce you to my companions." He gestured at the old man next to the envoy at the rear of the tent. "This is Lord Edward Beoulve, Lord of Lion's Peaks in Ovelia."

As Lord Beoulve walked past the firepots, Elsa realised that he was not as old as she originally thought. Like Lennox, his hair was peppered with grey, but he walked just as powerfully as a younger man.

"The pleasure is mine," he said as he took Elsa's hand and kissed her fingertips. His breath turned smoky for a few moments as he rose.

"And you have already met Aedan," Maximilian said. "He still has not quite recovered from his walk through the storm."

Aedan inclined his head to Elsa, but did not approach to kiss her hand as Lord Beoulve had. At Maximilian's words Elsa suddenly noticed the dark bags seemed to hung under his eyes, and his face was notably more pale than it had been in the barracks last night.

Elsa stood in silence as Maximilian introduced the other Lords of Ovelia who had been invited to watch the parley. They each shared their courtesies, bowing lowly, or bending to kiss her fingers.

"Can I offer you some wine?" Maximilian finally asked her as a slender man wearing a griffon crest stepped forward holding a pair of goblets. "I find it helps take the edge off pale mornings."

Elsa said, "I am not here to drink wine."

"Perhaps your captain would appreciate a cup?" Maximilian said as he took one of the cups from his servant and settled into his throne.

"No, thank you," Lennox said coldly.

"We are here to discuss terms, Lord Maximilian," Elsa said. That angry fist was beating against her calm now. _Pounding_. "Nothing else."

Maximilian's eyes narrowed and Elsa noticed his fingertips clench around the goblet of wine.

"Very well," he said. "Here are my terms, Queen Elsa. If you surrender Arendelle to me there will be no bloodshed. No man, woman or child in your city will die. I will turn my army around and sail home. In exchange, Arendelle will become a territory of the Kingdom of Ovelia, privy to the same rights as those under my protection. Your younger sister, Princess Anna, will rule, so that the Arendelle royal line does not break. A suitable marriage will be arranged to tie our two nations together. Where is Princess Anna, by the way, I was hoping to meet her too."

"Anna is inside the castle," Elsa lied.

Maximilian grinned. "Of course."

Something about Maximilian's terms had unsettled her and made that angry fist stall it's fury. "If you want Anna to take Arendelle's throne, what do you intend to do with me?"

"You will come to Ovelia with me," Maximilian said.

"With you?"

"As my prisoner."

Elsa felt Lennox stir beside her. She stepped closer to Maximilian and held out her hand to silence Lennox.

"And if I refuse your terms?" she asked.

"Then no magical storm will save your city from me." Maximilian rose from his chair. He towered above her. "My soldiers will climb your walls, batter down your gates and slaughter every fighting man inside. And there will be no mercy for you, or your sister when we root her out of the castle - if she is in the castle."

He spoke calmly, with a smile on his face and barely any emotion in voice. He filled Elsa's heart with dread, even as she stared unblinkingly back at him.

"You will find we are not so easy to quell," Lennox said, anger finally driving him to speak. "Ice is in our blood, _boy_. One of our men is worth four of yours in battle."

Maximilian laughed. "The previous lord of House Crescedia said something very similar to me when I marched my army to his castle walls."

Lennox gritted his teeth.

"Take a day to think over my offer," Maximilian said to Elsa. "I will send my envoy to you tomorrow morning to receive your response. Aedan quite enjoyed his time in Arendelle last night."

Elsa's eyes flashed towards Aedan, who ran a hand through his brown hair and smiled slightly.

"Spare your envoy the second trip," Elsa said haughtily, raising her chin and looking at Maximilian like he was a bug to be squished under her boot. Ice crystals formed in her hands and she was filled with the sudden urge to freeze him and his entire retinue to death – to raise snow monsters to crush them into little pieces. The smug little smile faded from Maximilian's face as he watched her.

"I will not hand Arendelle over to the likes of you," Elsa said. "This is _my_ kingdom and we will fight to defend it. You may bring your soldiers to bare against our walls and you may splinter our gates, but you will _not_ have Arendelle. You may do your worst, King Maximilian, and I will do mine."

"I have already weathered your storms, Queen Elsa," Maximilian said slowly.

"I wonder how you will fare when the snow is so deep you cannot move; when the frost grabs your men's ankles and smothers them to death; when the nights grow so cold not even your bonfires will keep you warm? How will you explain to your men why they are here when they wake up in the morning and find their friends blue and frozen to death beside them?"

"My men may die, but they will not be the only ones. How will _you_ explain to _your_ men the price to drive me away? How will you look at_ your_ soldiers when they freeze to death in their beds. The cold may not affect you, Queen Elsa, but I wager you're the only one in this snow-cursed kingdom."

Something stirred in Elsa's heart. She grabbed hold of it and held it tightly. "I will do what I must," she said.

The pavilion was silent, and for a few seconds stretched on for an eternity only the crackle of the flames in the braziers could be heard.

"Then there shall be war," Maximilian said, almost sounding a little sad.

"We have been at war since you sailed into the bay," Elsa replied. "I'll take my leave of you now." She paused and turned back to stare at Maximilian.

"Take a day to repair your ships and sail away, because if you are still here tomorrow morning I will unleash a storm unlike any other on you and your army. And this time you'll need more than a frozen wildflower to convince me to end it."

She turned on her heel and strode out from under the pavilion, not daring to look over her shoulder to look at Maximilian or his companions.

"Queen Elsa, wait!" Maximilian had followed her out of the pavilion and was standing opening in the sunlight. It would be so easy to freeze his blood, or send a shard of ice through his heart.

Elsa stopped and glared at the Ovelian king.

"Perhaps you will consider another solution," Maximilian said. "One that will spare the lives of both of our soldiers."

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

"A duel between champions," Maximilian said. "The old way."

Lennox breathed in sharply. "Under what conditions?"

"If my champion wins, Queen Elsa will surrender Arendelle and herself to me," Maximilian said.

"And if my champion wins?" Elsa asked.

"I will sail home with my army and never return."

"On your honour?"

"On my honour." Maximilian laid a hand over his heart. "Do you agree?"

Elsa glanced at Lennox, who shook his head ever so slightly.

_How many people will die if I refuse? _Elsa thought, fighting to keep her face passive.

Elsa looked away from her grizzled old captain and nodded at Maximillian.

"I agree."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Author's Note: Quite a bit of set up in this chapter for a fairly huge chapter three. I hope it was interesting. I don't own the name Beoulve. Didn't come up with it. Borrowed it from Final Fantasy. I didn't intend for there to be any sort of romantic link between Elsa and Lennox, no matter how small. It was something that just appeared when I was writing. At this stage, they are both lonely people who share a bond in this situation. Whether anything will come of it is up in the air. :)


	3. Chapter 3: Whisper

Chapter Three

\- Whisper -

* * *

The ride back to the palace was a long, and particularly arduous for the horses, whose hooves slipped and skidded on the melting snow. Elsa sat in the back of the carriage with her legs crossed and arms folded. The blue-coated soldiers marching along side the carriage occasionally looked at the window. Elsa caught the eyes of her guard captain and she smiled reassuringly at him.

None of those faces would need to die for her.

Captain Lennox had decided not to sit with her inside the carriage as he had on the way down. Elsa felt a little put out when he closed the carriage door after her instead of following her in. He had gone to the front to guide the horses. Lennox had not been able to meet her eyes, and his face had been as wooden as one of the gnarled old oak trees in the palace gardens.

Once again Elsa found herself missing Anna. Really missing her.

With Anna here, this carriage ride would not be so silent. Anna would have a thousand things to say about King Maximilian, the people with him in the pavilion, and tomorrow's duel.

When the carriage finally pulled into the palace grounds, Elsa allowed her guard captain to help her down the steps and open the palace door for her.

"The war room?" Elsa said to Lennox as she passed by the driver's seat. Lennox nodded a curt affirmation and looked away.

"Tell Bishop Axel he is needed in the war room," Lennox said curtly to one of his soldiers, who saluted and promptly ran off towards the chapter.

"The Bishop?" Elsa asked.

"There is much to do before tomorrow," was all Lennox replied.

The war room was a small chamber behind the throne room. Elsa could not quite remember what it was used for before – Lennox mentioned something about an old sitting room when asked. A huge map of Arendelle and the surrounding kingdoms completely covered a table in the middle of the room. Smaller maps occupied small tables, or lay on top of the larger one. Lennox had had the servant dig through the contents of the library for as many maps as they could find. One servant had even managed to uncover an old blueprint of the castle, which Lennox had spent many hours pouring over and comparing it to drawings of the castle as it had changed over the centuries. Elsa had looked at some of the old maps with interest too, but Lennox would stay up reading and looking at maps until the early hours of the morning, or he'd be looking at the fresco of King Maximilian Elsa had brought in, sitting and thinking.

As soon as the war room's door closed behind them, Lennox spun on Elsa and grabbed her by the shoulders. His voice rolled with quiet thunder. "What were you thinking?"

The intensity of his voice would have made Elsa step back if Lennox wasn't holding her by her shoulders. "Excuse me?" she said, surprise numbing the multitude of other emotions seeking to burst out. "I thought that went quite well."

"'Quite well'," Lennox threw back at her. "What part of that encounter do you think went well?"

Anger broke through Elsa's shock. She drew herself up to her full height and glared at Lennox. The entire room seemed to grow colder and the fire in the hearth flickered. "You will remember your place, captain."

Lennox released her and held his hands by his side. They had turned bright red from the cold.

"I apologise," Lennox said after taking several deep, rasping breaths.

Elsa folded her arms beneath her breasts. "Maximilian would not allow one of his subjects to speak to him like that, and neither will I."

Lennox rubbed his hands together and smiled at her wryly. "Maximilian is not the kind of ruler you should aspire to be."

"Oh?"

Lennox shook his head and moved closer to the fire.

"My father would not have allowed it either."

"Perhaps not," Lennox said.

"Yet you find it acceptable to speak to me that way?"

"You gave Maximilian exactly what he wanted, Elsa," Lennox said.

"How so?" Elsa retorted. "I do not see him sitting on the throne or bearing the crown and scepter. Arendelle is not his."

"I do not believe Maximilian cares a lick for Arendelle," Lennox said gruffly. "To him this place is a frozen wasteland on the fringe of the world."

"Then why has he come?"

Lennox looked at her sadly. "Do you not see?"

"Lennox," Elsa said.

"You are so young, too young for this."

"_Captain_," Elsa said in a tight voice.

"He has come for you, my lady. _You_ are why he has traveled all this way with an army, braving rough seas and conjured storms. He wants your sorcery, nothing else, and he is willing to burn Arendelle to the ground to have you." Lennox paused and grimaced as if pained. "And by agreeing to a duel between champions, you let him remove your sorcery from this war."

Elsa recoiled as the full weight of Lennox's words struck her.

"Your powers were the only true advantage we had."

"I . . . I'm sorry," Elsa heard herself say.

"You did not know," Lennox said. "Perhaps this is for the best. None of our soldiers will die this way. Even if we lose the duel, we will be able to hold onto that."

A gentle knock on the door broke the silence that seemed to echo between Elsa and Lennox. Lennox crossed the room and pulled the door open, gesturing for Bishop Axel to come in.

Bishop Axel was an old man now, a few years away from walking with a stick. He kept his face clean shaven, forgoing the large beard that other men his age took pride in. Instead he cared for an impressive set of grey sideburns, which extended down from his hood.

"Your majesty," Bishop Axel bowed to Elsa. When he straightened, he looked between Elsa and Lennox with a bushy eyebrow raised. "How did the meeting go?"

"The war will be decided by a duel between champions," Lennox said.

"'Tis a shame that this must be resolved with bloodshed," Bishop Axel said, shaking his head.

"Sometimes blood is inevitable," Lennox retorted.

"I suppose an old soldier would know that best."

"And how would _you_ resolve this conflict, priest?"

"I would use diplomacy."

"Maximilian did not set sail with ten thousand men just to talk," Lennox said. "Would you give them your queen in the name of diplomacy?"

Bishop Axel drew himself up. "I never-"

"That's enough!" Elsa ordered. "I'll not have you fighting between yourselves."

"I . . . I apologise." Lennox stepped back.

"This is an . . . unusual situation," Bishop Axel agreed.

"Now, Captain Lennox, why did you ask the Bishop to come here?" Elsa asked.

Lennox glanced at the fresco of King Maximilian Elsa had had mounted in the war room. "We can't place Arendelle's fate in the hands of a single champion. We can be sure that Maximilian won't."

"That's not particularly honourable," Bishop Axel said.

"When you're standing in the ruins of Arendelle, with the ghosts of its people and soldiers floating around you, you can ask them how much honour matters."

Lennox turned to Elsa. "Should your champion lose this duel, you must escape and appeal to the king and queen of Corona directly. They may turn away a messenger, but they will not turn away you. King Frederick recently found his daughter after she was lost eighteen years, so I do not believe he would turn away the daughter of one of his oldest friends. His heart is not cold."

"Corona and Ovelia have not fought in more than twenty years," Elsa said.

"But before that they warred for one hundred and seven." Lennox's words hung.

"Will they really be so quick to help us?"

"It was Maximilian's father who signed the peace treaty with King Frederick, not Maximilian. You can be sure that King Frederick will see Maximilian's attack on Arendelle as a return to Ovelia's conquering ways. We have been Corona's ally for centuries. They will not forget about us."

Lennox addressed Bishop Axel. "You know more passages out of this city than I could ever hope to learn by studying the old plans and maps of the area. I need you to ensure Elsa manages to escape cleanly – and preferably before she is captured by the Ovelians. If not, I am sure you will be able to rescue her and spirit her away before King Maximilian is any wiser."

"And how do you expect King Maximilian will react to Elsa's disappearance if his champion emerges victorious?" Bishop Axel said. "Your image of ghosts in the ruins of Arendelle may be correct in the end."

Lennox looked at Elsa, eyes softening. "Her safety is all."

Elsa's stomach dropped. "I will not leave if it puts Arendelle at risk."

"No true ruler would," Bishop Axel said.

"If Maximilian were to raze Arendelle," Lennox said, "then we can be sure that Corona will join the war. But, I do not think that will happen. Win or lose, I believe Maximilian will occupy Arendelle and merge it into his kingdom. All we can do is ensure he does not take our queen."

"Is the duel really that pointless?" Elsa asked, heart sinking.

"Not at all, your highness," Lennox said. "If we win, it breaks Maximilian's momentum. It buys us time. It will strengthen our troops and embolden our morale. Morale can make all the difference in a war."

"I just have to choose the right champion," Elsa said.

"I know of a young soldier in stationed at at the Northern Approach," Bishop Axel said. "He is said to be the fastest sword in the army. If we send a rider to him now he could be back here by nightfall."

Lennox snorted. "Some green boy will not champion my queen in combat."

Bishop Axel raised that bushy eyebrow once more. "Oh? Who do you suggest?"

Lennox touched the hilt of his famous sword.

"Me."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Elsa could not sleep that night.

The castle was still, with not a single servant wandering the same hallway as Elsa. The candles had long since been extinguished, so gentle moonlight was the only light Elsa could use to make her way through the castle. Her feet carried her forward with very little direction.

She rounded a corner and paused.

The door to Lennox's chambers was ajar and soft firelight cast made the doorway glow invitingly.

"You should be sleeping," Lennox said, after Elsa had knocked on his door and slipped inside. He had removed his armour and was sitting by the fire with his boots turned down and his shirt-sleeves rolled up to reveal a pair of powerful forearms.

"So should you," Elsa replied as she sat down in the spare chair by the fire.

"Sleep always eludes me before a fight." Lennox said.

"Why?"

"The anticipation. The fear."

Elsa looked up and met Lennox's eyes.

"Your father would often sit in that chair," Lennox said, nodding at the worn and faded armchair Elsa was curled up on.

"He did?" Elsa reached over and poured Lennox a cup of wine from the jug on the small table between the chairs.

Lennox accepted it gratefully and said, "Pour one for yourself."

The wine Lennox enjoyed was sweet and smelled like fruit. Elsa sipped at her cup and watched her captain stare into the fire.

"Are you afraid?" Elsa asked.

Lennox smirked. "Only fools go into battle without fear."

"I wonder if Maximilian's champion is afraid."

"We can only hope he is the most cowardly soldier in their army."

"He won't be."

"No, he won't be," Lennox agreed. "You should return to bed, my queen."

"Can I stay here?"

"Your Majesty?"

"I can't sleep in my chambers. Not tonight. Please, Captain, keep talking to me."

"Is that a command?" Lennox's eyes glinted with humour.

"It is." Elsa settled deeper into the armchair and closed her eyes. She heard Lennox finish his cup of wine before breathing deeply.

"Your father and I once travelled south to Corona, before you or your sister were born. There was a tournament in the capital and all of the noble families were expected to be there. I didn't know it at the time, but the tournament was held so that King Meridan of Ovelia and King Frederick of Corona could meet and discuss and end to the war. There hadn't been a battle in years, and both nations had grown weary.

"I remember seeing Maximilian. He was only a small child then, so I paid him no attention. Not many people did; they were all focused on his eldest brother."

"He died in the civil war, didn't he?" Elsa said sleepily.

"He did. By Maximilian's hand too, so the rumours fly."

"What happened at the tournament?"

"Did your father never speak to you about it?" Lennox asked.

"Never."

"That's surprising."

Elsa cracked her eyelids open. "How so?"

"Do you know the best way to cement an alliance, my queen?"

Elsa was silent.

"Through marriage," Lennox said. "At the tournament, King Meriden, King Frederick and your father agreed to cement peace through marriage. It was the first time such dealings had been attempted in the history of the kingdoms. The Southern Islanders were also involved in the dealings. The king there already had more sons then he knew what to do with."

"But the marriage pacts didn't work?" Elsa said.

"Perhaps if they had, Arendelle wouldn't be under siege. You may even have found yourself married to Maximilian, or one of his brothers."

The thought sickened Elsa. "Why didn't they work?"

"A series of unfortunate events," Lennox replied. "Not long after the tournament, the Queen of Corona gave birth to a baby girl. It was agreed that when she came of age, she would marry King Meriden's eldest son and secure peace between the two kingdoms. But the princess was kidnapped, and was not seen again for eighteen years. Your father also withdrew from the pact, after it became clear that you were born with magic. Ovelians, in particular, despise sorcery of any kind.

"Perhaps the pact could have been salvaged with Princess Anna, or if the Queen of Corona bore another heir, but both Ovelia and Corona became locked in separate against banditry. After one hundred years of war, many men knew nothing but swords and warfare. They were not content to farm, or learn a trade, and even those who were discovered that desiring to do something peaceful did not mean they could do so. Thousands of men took up banditry, organising clans that raided villages and towns. King Frederick grieved the loss of his daughter and was not the king Corona needed during such a tumultuous time. The woods and forests of Corona are still filled with bandits and mercenaries."

"What about Ovelia?" Elsa asked, leaning forward with interest.

"King Meriden refused to allow such banditry in his kingdom. For a decade after the war with Corona, the Lords of Ovelia hunted down the bandit clans relentlessly. They did not take them seriously at first, but a clan led by the Painted Knight raided Lion's Peak, the Beoulve's ancestral home. The war against the bandits did not end in Ovelia until a young Rickard Ashaela killed the Painted Knight in single combat. It's said Maximilian crossed swords with the Painted Knight and was able to hold him off until Rickard arrived."

"I've heard stories about the Painted Knight," Elsa said.

"I'm not surprised. He became something of a folk hero, as he only stole from the rich, never the poor. He was lover to the Goldfinch, who people say was the true leader of their clan."

"What happened to her?"

"Are you sure your father never told you of this?" Lennox asked.

"No, never," Elsa replied. "Why do you keep asking that?"

Lennox shook his head. "It's no matter. No one knows what happened to the Goldfinch. She was not captured or killed. The bards say she disappeared into the depths of the forests, mourning the loss of her beloved." Lennox sighed tiredly. "Not long after the war with the bandits, King Meriden died and Ovelia became embroiled in civil war."

"And now we are here," Elsa said.

"And now we are here," Lennox agreed with a heavy sigh. "Try to sleep, my queen. Tomorrow will not be an easy day."

"Keep talking to me," Elsa said, as she closed her eyes again.

And Captain Lennox did.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

"You remember your orders?" Lennox asked his officers in the palace courtyard. His voice revealed none of the softness he had spoken with last night.

"Yes, ser," they replied as one. Each were dressed in full battle armour, with helmets forged to resemble blue plumes.

"Repeat them back to me," Lennox ordered.

Elsa watched the exchange emotionlessly, embracing the frozen persona she had masked herself with during her meeting with Maximilian the previous day. It would do no good for her soldiers to see her afraid. She needed to be their bastion of strength.

"Are you ready to leave, my queen?" Bishop Axel asked as he rode up beside her.

"Yes," Elsa replied, as she steadied her silvery mare with a soft tug on the reins.

"Captain Lennox will be fine, your majesty," Bishop Axel said. "I have known him for a long time and it is difficult to imagine anyone better with a sword."

"Then why did you suggest a soldier from the Northern Approach?" Elsa asked.

Bishop Axel shrugged his shoulders. "Captain Lennox may be a talented swordsman, but he is fast approaching his fiftieth year."

"Does that matter?"

"We will see," Bishop Axel said.

Captain Lennox finished with his officers and sent them riding back to their companies. He swung his black stallion around and rode to Elsa. "The soldiers are ready, My Queen."

"Then let's not keep the Ovelian champion waiting," Elsa said coldly.

Captain Lennox's armour shone as he rode next to Elsa out of the city and onto the grassy plain outside Arendelle's walls. The snow had long since melted, but the grass was still sodden with condensation.

Elsa's royal guards followed Elsa and Lennox outside of the city, each fully armed with swords and shields and in full battle armour. The rest of the army waited on the walls and by the gates.

The Ovelians were waiting too. They stretched over the other side of the plain and near the harbour like a red tide. The glint from their helmets and breastplates made Elsa's shield her eyes. The red pavilion from yesterday had been removed, but in its place King Maximilian stood next to a man armoured in a red leather breastplate, bearing the king's griffon crest. The man's arms were bare from shoulder to elbow, but his forearms were protected by steel vambraces decorated with golden lions. Two horses grazed behind them, one golden and the other black as night. Elsa thought she could guess which belonged to Maximilian.

"Queen Elsa, Captain Lennox," Maximilian said as Elsa and Lennox approached. He was dressed in dazzling golden armour, framed by a blood red cloak which billowed out from behind his pauldrons. "Is this not a beautiful morning?"

"Spare me your pleasantries," Elsa said icily.

Maximilian's smile grew wider. "Then speak your final words to your champion, Queen Elsa."

Lennox dismounted his stallion and handed his reins to one of Elsa's guards.

"Do not fear, my queen." Lennox took her hand and kissed it gently.

He turned away from Elsa and faced Ovelia's champion, who removed his helmet and gave it to Maximilian.

Surprise bounced against Elsa's icy calm, and she heard Lennox make a sound in distaste.

Aedan had had his hair cut over night. The wavy brown hair no longer fell over his eyes, like it had the night he had been brought into the guardhouse. He smiled at Elsa, but did not bow his head.

Behind him, Maximilian swung onto the honey-coloured stallion and reached over to take black horses reins. Aedan's lion helmet was tucked securely under his arm.

"Show them your worth," Maximilian said over his shoulder as he rode away.

Aedan did not reply.

"Stay close to Bishop Axel," Lennox said. "He will see you safe.

"Come back to me," Elsa said as she spun her horse around.

"I will," he promised.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Lennox blinked and half-raised his hand as a sudden glare, bright as the sun on white snow, attacked his eyes, blocking his view of Elsa with bursts of vivid colour. He looked away, only to spot Aedan smiling at him. The envoy was holding that red-jeweled dagger in front of him, using the polished blade to reflect the sun into Lennox's eyes.

A knife of irritation pierced him.

"It's time to look away from your queen and give your attention to me," Aedan said as he slipped the dagger inside his left vambrace.

"Draw your sword," Lennox spat at him.

Aedan smirked and pulled his sword from its scabbard. He held the blade up to the sun, as if inspecting it for any blemishes before flinging the sheathe away.

_Smart_, Lennox thought. He pulled Whisper from her sheathe and did the same. The white blade _hummed_.

"Are you ready to die for your queen?" Aedan asked.

Lennox walked forward, sword held ready.

And Aedan came to meet him.

Their swords met, ringing in sudden fury.

Lennox stepped forward into Aedan's next strike, catching the blow on Whisper's crossguard. He lashed out, and Aedan had to dance backwards to avoid falling.

Lennox did not give him the time to regain stance.

His pursuit was swift.

_Slash._

Aedan pushed the blow aside.

_ Slash._

A quick backstep.

_ Slash._

Aedan smashed Whisper down as Lennox aimed as his head.

Lennox suddenly felt his body spike with energy as Aedan's savage parry revealed a gap in his guard. Lennox feinted left, drawing his sword back as if readying for a counterstrike, but instead of following through, he stepped forward and drove his sword as hard as he could towards Aedan's breastplate.

Whisper passed harmlessly through the gap between Aedan's arm and torso. Lennox's nose exploded in pain.

He staggered back, sweeping Whisper in a wide arc.

Aedan leapt back. Lennox saw his face twist in annoyance.

He could feel sweat sliding down his face, mingling with the blood dripping from his nose. He wiped the blood away with the back of his hand and spat on the grass.

Aedan was moving in a slow circle around Lennox, looking no worse for wear after the exchange.

He advanced, delivering a flurry of slashes, blade shimmering as it danced.

The echo of sword against sword rang around them.

Aedan's body moved and Lennox raised Whisper high to block the overhand blow. In an instant, Lennox realised his mistake and tried to twist away.

Aedan slipped under Lennox's guard and stabbed forward with all of his weight behind it. The sword struck Lennox's breastplate and slipped to the side. The sound reverberated through Lennox's ears, syncing perfectly with his furious heartbeat.

Aedan slipped away before Lennox could attack.

A deep scratch scarred his breastplate just underneath his heart. His ribs ached and he could already feel a bruise throbbing into existence.

Anger filled Lennox's body.

Aedan came forward again, driving Lennox back heavy strikes. The younger man moved fluidly, one strike leading into the next so seamlessly it was all Lennox could do to keep the sword away.

He waited, and watched Aedan's face as well as his sword.

Sweat beaded across Aedan's forehead, making his hair stick to his scalp. His nostril's flared with the effort from every blow.

Then they didn't.

Lennox held his parry for the briefest second and watched Aedan's sword slow and turn.

He stepped forward, ducked under Aedan's blow and lashed out with Whisper.

Aedan twisted, his poise vanishing as he tried to wrench his body out of the way.

Whisper bit deeply into Aedan's side, slicing through his leather breastplate and cutting flesh. The Ovelian smashed onto the ground, screaming in pain. His breastplate was slick with dark blood.

A dull roar rose from the Arendelle soldiers, somehow rumbling over the pounding beat in Lennox's ears. He pushed down a shout a triumph as he advanced on Aedan.

The Ovelian had dropped his sword in the fall, and was scrambling to retrieve it, grimacing in pain.

Lennox kicked the sword away.

He walked around Aedan in a wide circle, changing his grip on Whisper until the white blade was pointing towards the ground.

Aedan swore with a soft, pained chuckle and straightened until he was kneeling on the blood-soaked grass. Lennox placed Whisper's tip against the back of Aedan's neck. He was breathing heavily, shaking from pain and exhaustion.

Lennox raised Whisper high.

Aedan moved suddenly, faster than Lennox could have possibly imagined for someone with that wound. A glint of red sparkled against the sunlight.

Pain erupted deep within in Lennox's thigh. He felt all of his strength leave his leg as it folded under his weight. Blood gushed out of his leg so quickly it sprayed the grass around him crimson.

He jabbed wildly with Whisper, but Aedan was already rolling out of the way.

Aedan scrambled to his feet, holding his red-gemmed dagger in a white-fingered grasp while his other hand tried desperately to staunch the blood dripping from the blow Lennox had struck. His face was a twisted, grotesque caricature, lips curled back and teeth bared as they ground together. He dropped his dagger as he bent to pick up his sword.

Lennox swung Whisper in a wild swing, aiming a cut at Aedan's ankles.

Aedan parried the blow with a flick of his sword, then lunged forward to stab his sword through Lennox's hand.

Lennox dropped Whisper with a grunt of pain.

"You may have killed me yet," Aedan snarled, pausing to glance at the slash on his side. His fingers were drenched with blood and slipped over the slick leather breastplate.

He stepped forward and kicked Lennox as hard as he could.

Lennox tried to move out of the way, but his leg refused to move. He smashed against the frozen ground so heavily it knocked the air from him.

Suddenly Aedan was behind him, grabbing him by his hair and pulling him to his knees.

"Look at your queen!" Aedan hissed at him, forcing him around until he could see Elsa.

Lennox lashed out with his ruined fist, but Aedan stepped away and flicked his sword at Lennox's arm. The cut was nothing.

He looked up and looked at Elsa.

His queen's blue eyes were wide and sparkling with tears.

She looked so beautiful.

Aedan's sword glinted with sunlight as it fell.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Elsa's body became numb as she watched Aedan's sword strike Lennox's neck. The first blow struck deeply, spraying Lennox's breastplate crimson.

The second severed Lennox's head from his shoulders.

Black spots danced in front of Elsa's vision and she felt her legs shake. The roar of the Ovelian army smothered the urgent whispers of Bishop Axel, who had grabbed her arm. She could barely feel his fingers.

On the blood-soaked field, Aedan had collapsed to the ground next to Lennox's severed head, both hands pressing against the wound on his torso. King Maximilian was galloping towards him, with his personal guard struggling to keep up.

"You must flee!" Bishop Axel's voice finally broke through Elsa's icy shell.

"Lennox . . . he," Elsa stammered.

"Do not dwell on it, Elsa," Bishop Axel urgently. "You must leave . . . NOW!"

Red-cloaked soldiers were rapidly advancing.

Elsa turned towards her guards and drew herself up to full height. The air around her began to chill and she breathed ice. "We must secure the gates," she ordered. "They cannot enter the city."

Fear and shock decorated the faces of her guards, twisting them, but at her words, her guard captain steeled himself and raised his arm to deliver the orders.

"ARCHERS," the guard-captain roared.

On Arendelle's walls, the lines of crossbowmen raised their crossbows and steadied themselves against the wall.

A burst of heat suddenly soared high over Elsa's head, dispelling the frost she was gathering around herself. She looked up and saw the wall burst into flames.

Screams echoed down to her as her soldiers burned.

Elsa felt bile rise in her throat. She raised both her hands and weaved her magic.

A wall of pure ice materialised in front of her and her soldiers, sparkling like crystal in the warm sunlight. She twisted in the saddle and swept magic over the flames burning on top of the wall. The fire shimmered and died.

Agonised screams filled her ears. as the soldiers on the wall clutched their burns.

"That was well done," Bishop Axel said quickly, grabbing her reins and wheeling her horse towards the city gates.

Intense heat burst against the back of Elsa's neck.

She looked around and felt panic seize her body. Slick streams of water gushed down her wall of ice. Steam rose all around it, so thick it clouded the air. Elsa watched the top of the wall collapse in on itself before she raised her hand and gathered ice around herself.

"Keep riding," Bishop Axel shouted.

Another burst of heat flew shattered Elsa's wall and flew across Elsa's head. A wall of flame erupted into existence, blocking their way through the heavy portcullis. Elsas's horse screamed and reared backwards. Elsa felt a scream tear through her own throat as she smashed against the ground.

"Protect the queen!" Elsa's guard-captain screamed.

An arrow took him in the throat.

Elsa screamed as rough hands pulled her to her knees. Around her, her guards were fighting desperately against a tide of red. Swords flashed and Elsa's guards fell, or else they burst into flames. She raised her hand and tried to weave sharp icicles to pierce the red-cloaked soldiers, but the air around her was so hot. Every breath felt like she was sucking in sunlight.

"Take her hands," a feminine voice commanded. "Hold them!"

Elsa screamed and fought back as Ovelian soldier's wrenched her arms forward and up, presenting them to a woman dressed in black. All of the soldier's were grimacing and their hands and forarms burned red from the cold emanating from Elsa's body.

The woman smiled at her with purple lips, as she bent down and clasped a golden bracer around her right wrist.

Pain exploded in Elsa's hand, burning, twisting, tearing, _burning_.

"And her other arm," the woman said. The soldier's holding Elsa held up her other arm so that the woman could snap an identical golden bracer around her wrist.

Winter left her.

And red eyes filled Elsa's vision in a haze of burning pain.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks for sticking with me this far. I really want to thank reviewers: NinthOrbitz for the advice, and Brinonymous, Shawn Raven and Aggregate Dragon for the support.

It was pretty difficult writing the fight scene, but I think it goes all right.


	4. Chapter 4: Chained

Chapter Four

\- Chained -

* * *

A single torch mounted in a sconce near the tower door was the only light the Ovelians left Elsa that night. Long shadows stretched across the stone floor; dark claws touched her skin and caressed her hair. Fingers and gentle as silk brushed her face, wiping the dried tears from her cheeks.

Her wrists burned.

She had tried to squeeze her hands out of the bracers; had searched for any crack she could pry open with her fingernails, but all she could feel was seamless gold which bound her power as surely as the shackle they had clasped around her bare ankle bound her to the wall.

The only window in the tower was too small for someone to squeeze through. If she sat close enough to it, she could hear faint shouts and scattered carousing. If she stood on her toes, she could see the thick smoke and orange sparks from a great bonfire rising from the courtyard.

Voices drifted to her through the tower door.

Elsa stood, shackle clanking against the chains.

"Alexia is doing all she can, but she doesn't think he'll last night. The cut was deep, sire."

"She must do whatever it takes, do you understand?"

Elsa stiffened. That was Maximilian's voice, she was sure of it.

"She is out by the fire, speaking to no one and staring into the flames."

"When we finish here, you will go down and tell Alexia that if he dies she will share Queen Elsa's fate."

"Yes, sire."

_My fate?_

"Good," Maximilian said. "Now unlock the door."

Elsa stepped into the light of the torch as the door swung open, framing the silhouettes of three men. Elsa didn't recognise two of them, but Maximilian's face was burned into her mind.

All of the warmth and friendliness Maximilan had shown during their previous meetings had transformed into hard stone. He smiled at her as he stepped into the tower room, but it was as cold as the rock around them.

Elsa sealed her lips and stared back at him.

Maximilian took a breath. "Did you know that once upon a time you and I were supposed to be wed?"

Elsa started in surprise.

A trace of real amusement flickered across Maximilian's face. "I was seven when my father told me I was betrothed to Princess Elsa of Arendelle. You were perhaps a year or two old at the time." He glanced at Elsa's golden bracers. "I realise now why the engagement didn't work out. How ashamed your parents must have been when they found out they had given birth to a sorceress."

"Don't talk about them," Elsa said through gritted teeth.

"Father wondered why Arendelle closed its gates to the world. All of his plans with the king of Corona were slowly unraveling and he never knew why. He went to his grave with his peace slipping through his weary fingers.

"Then last year I hear rumours of Arendelle's beautiful queen who banished a snowstorm in the middle of summer. I heard that winter lies in that queen's fingertips and that snow and ice obey your commands."

Elsa stepped back and crossed her arms as Maximilian reached for her hand.

Maximilian shrugged. "With all that you've done I really wonder how much loyalty you have inspired since you became queen. I suppose we'll find out when your subjects are asked to kneel."

"What are you saying?" Elsa said.

Maximilian showed her a semblance of a smile. "When you came into your crown, you fled and abandoned your people to a snowstorm. When I reached your shores, you beat my army and the surrounding land with the worst storm this country has seen in centuries. The forest grew so cold, sap froze and trees exploded. Our scouts report finding many animals dead in their burrows and dens. One scout told me of a crofter's family found frozen to death – all five of them huddled together in a bed of ice.

"You have unleashed much pain and hardship on your people, Queen Elsa. Your father must be turning over in his watery grave."

Elsa flinched, but forced herself look into Maximilian's humourless eyes. _He's just trying to get inside my head._

Maximilian stepped forward and Elsa stepped away. She felt cold stone touch her back.

"Where is Anna?" Maximilian asked, touching Elsa's cheek.

Elsa thought of Anna, travelling south and guarded by some of Lennox's best. Elsa smiled and moved away from Maximilian's hand. "I don't know where she is."

"I don't intend to harm her."

_Lies. _"Then what do you intend?"

"I intend for her to sit on the throne," Maximilian said, moving his hand away and standing back. "I will find her an Ovelian husband and their marriage will join our kingdoms. I can think of two, possibly three men who deserve the honour of marrying a princess. Arendelle will come under Ovelia's protection and my father will rest easier knowing he has part of the peace he craved."

"I am Arendelle's queen," Elsa said. "And neither Anna or I will be your puppet."

"Stubborn mule!" Maximilian's voice rose. "You _will_ bend the knee!"

"I will not." Elsa said defiantly.

Maximilian snarled and lifted his hand.

A grotesquely large man filled the tower door as he stepped inside the tower. He sneered down at her, pale lips parting, revealing half-rotted teeth.

"If you do not obey," Maximilian said, "then Rathmore will take you outside and wring your neck in front of the people you tried to protect."

The beast smelt of stale wine and blood. When he walked past Maximilian and stood over Elsa, her legs almost gave way. He touched Elsa's hair, curling a soft lock around a bulbous finger.

A sliver of fear and revulsion ran down Elsa's spine.

"You will obey me, Queen Elsa." Maximilian's voice seemed so far away. "Or I will stain these fine halls with blood."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

More than a week passed before anyone came to Elsa's tower to speak with her. Red-caped guards came twice a day: once in the morning to place a bowl of lukewarm porridge and a jug of water inside the tower door, and once in the evening to collect what remained. The knot of hunger in Elsa's stomach grew larger with every passing day.

So when the tower door was pushed open an hour before midday, Elsa scrambled to her feet and pushed her dirtied and soot-streaked hair out of her face.

A blond-haired man dressed in the Ovelian red gold of a soldier walked in and immediately wrinkled his nose. He looked over his shoulder and said loudly, "And tell the girls to bring up a bath too, with plenty of hot water."

Heat touched Elsa's neck and cheeks. She raised her head high and tried to look down at the man.

"I apologise if that embarrassed you, Queen Elsa," the man said. "I am Ornsten and I am here to ready you for your appearance tonight."

"Appearance?" Elsa asked.

"The nobles of Arendelle have gathered to swear fealty to King Maximilian," Ornsten said. "Your attendance is expected. Your people will want to know that you are safe." He paused. "And I heard what Maximilian said would happen if you don't cooperate."

Elsa could barely repress a shudder. Her dreams had been haunted by the grotesque man who caressed her hair. "You were there?"

"I would not want Rathmore howling for my blood as he howls for yours." Ornsten frowned and stepped forward. He touched Elsa's chin and lifted her head before she could jerk away. "You look thinner." He cast his eyes around until they fell on the empty bowl of porridge Elsa had left on the table. "That's all they've been feeding you?"

Elsa did not answer.

"I'll have a meal sent up," Ornsten said, shaking his head. "Perhaps some wine too. I think you'll need some before tonight. A little drink might ease the pain of handing your country to another monarch."

Footsteps echoed up the tower and soon a pair of guards came in carrying a brazier filled with burning coals.

"Quite spacious, this room," Ornsten said conversationally.

"This room was not meant to be a prison," Elsa replied coldly.

"Maximilian did not find it fitting to keep a queen as renowned as you in the dungeons," Ornsten explained. "My king loves his appearances. The image of a beautiful sorceress queen locked away in a tower appeals to him. I'm sure there will be a tapestry made one day."

"Are you trying to mock me?" Elsa said coldly.

"No, I'm not," Ornsten said. "I apologise if I have offended you."

_He almost sounds sincere_, Elsa thought. He was the first Ovelian she had spoken to whose politeness was not laced with sarcasm and mockery.

"I understand that you have been treated harshly, Queen Elsa. Maximilian is still hurting from your magical storm. You wounded his pride and your defiant words are not helping to ease it."

"I have no desire to ease his wounded pride," Elsa said.

Ornsten grinned. "Neither would I, but if stoking Max's ego meant I got to keep my head on my shoulders, I would stoke away. Maximilian always gets what he wants."

"What more does he want from me?" Elsa looked away and wiped her eye with the back of her hand.

"He wants every noble in Arendelle to see you give him your kingdom. He wants to see thoughts of resistance quelled. Nothing kills resistance like a leader's head bowed. It works better than seeing a leader's head rolling on the ground."

"His champion already took Arendelle for him."

"With the sword, and you ruined that by resisting and forcing us to attack the city. You showed your people that you were not willing to kneel. Tonight, you will rectify that, or I suspect your people will see your head rolling down the palace steps before the night is done."

Elsa shuddered.

"Give the golden orb and the scepter of Arendelle to Maximilian and your kingdom will be his, but you'll have your life and the halls of the palace will remain clean."

Elsa was silent. _I wish Lennox was here._

Ornsten watched her for a moment before turning on his heel. "If there is nothing else, I shall take my leave."

"Wait!" Elsa said, starting forward. Her chains jingled. "What happened to Lennox?"

Ornsten frowned at her. "Who?"

"My champion."

"Ah, I believe he was buried in the palace graveyard," Ornsten said slowly.

"You 'believe'?" Elsa said.

"I believe," Orsten repeated. "I can find out for you."

"I . . . thank you," Elsa said.

Ornsten nodded. "Now If you'll excuse me, Queen Elsa, I believe I hear the servants with your bath."

Ornsten stood to the side as three Ovelian handmaidens entered the tower carrying buckets of hot water. A pair of red-cloaked guards followed them, struggling to balance the heavy hip-bath between them. Ornsten watched the guards place the tub roughly on the ground before ordering the two to wait outside the door while the maids worked.

"You understand," he said to Elsa, with an apologetic smile. He turned to the maids. "Send one of the guards to find me when you have her ready."

The pair of guards followed Ornsten out of the tower room and closed the door behind them.

The handmaidens were silent as they helped Elsa undress and put her into the bath. Her hair was doused with jugs of steaming water and cleansed with sweet-smelling oils. When her skin was pink from scrubbing they guided her out of the path and placed her on a chair behind a brazier burning with hot coals. The heat warmed her skin and began to dry her hair. One of the handmaidens gave Elsa a small mirror to hold as her hair was brushed.

Elsa looked into the mirror and could barely contain a gasp of surprise. Her cheeks had begun to sink into her face, making her eyes look bigger and wider than Elsa had ever seen them before. Her bones appeared sharper, with more lines and angles than had been there before.

"It's a shame they're letting you wither away," one of the handmaidens said pityingly, before she was silenced by a stern look from another.

Elsa could not reply, so she sat in dignified silence.

"Hush, she is still more beautiful than many I have seen in my lifetime," one of the Ovelian handmaidens said. She was older than the other two, with streaks of grey painted through her dark hair.

The pair of younger maids shared a glance, but remained silent.

When she was dry, the handmaidens helped her into a silvery dress and stood back. The dress felt looser than it had in the past. The older handmaiden had to draw the bodice tight to stop it from slipping down.

"You look very regal, my lady," one of the younger handmaidens said.

Ornsten echoed the sentiment when he returned an hour before dusk, carrying a small plate of food and a pitcher of wine. "I'm sorry I could not return sooner," he said after offering his own compliments to Elsa's regality. "The kitchens are in a panic. Some nonsense about a missing roasted boar."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Ovelian banners hung from every wall inside the somber chapel, draping the stones with red and gold. Maximilian had transformed the chapel, and it made Elsa sick to her stomach.

"That's Lord Edward Beoulve standing next to the king – the one wearing the coat that looks like a lion's mane. He governs the eastern edge of Ovelia, guarding the realm from the vicious Coronans." A bite of humour tinged Ornsten's voice. "His lands saw a lot of devastation during the war, but his family became renowned for producing famous generals and soldiers. His eldest is here somewhere, but he left his other legitimate children at home."

Elsa stood in silence as Ornsten directed her attention towards different members of Ovelia's nobility. They were dressed like conquerors, in shining armours and soft silks. None had seemed to notice Elsa at the chapel's entrance. _Yet._

Ornsten touched her shoulder and directed her towards a tall man with powerful shoulders speaking to a short man trying desperately to appear taller. "That's Lord Ashaela. His son is one of the best swordsmen in Ovelia. If he had been here, you're champion probably would have fought him."

"And what makes Lord Ashaela significant?" Elsa asked as she looked at Lord Ashaela through narrowed eyes.

Ornsten chuckled. "His daughter's the queen. If Maximilian and Adeline didn't marry, Ovelia would likely still be warring with itself."

"Why isn't she here with Maximilian?"

"She's with child," Ornsten said brightly. "When Maximilian found out, he refused to allow her on the ship. There was quite the argument. In the end, Maximilian had to have Aedan and I escort her back to the palace. I had not seen the queen so agitated since . . . it's been years."

Elsa breathed in sharply at Aedan's name. He looked around, but could not see him through the crowds. _I hope he died._

"Ah," Ornsten said. "Here they are."

Elsa turned to see Bishop Axel carrying the golden orb and scepter of Arendelle on a purple cushion lined with golden thread. His face was haggard, with large dark rings surrounding each eye. His cheeks had sunken into his flesh, making his jowls stand out sickeningly. A pair of soldiers escorted him, each with a hand on his shoulder.

"Bishop!" Elsa said, starting forward. Ornsten grabbed her arm and guided her back.

"Careful, Queen," he said warningly.

"Queen Elsa," Bishop Axel said. "I'm relieved to see you safe." Part of the tension tightening Bishop Axel's face fled as he smiled.

"I'm glad to see you safe too. After I was captured I..." Elsa began. "What happened after-"

"I think that talk can wait a while longer," Ornsten said quickly, stepping between them. "Our king is waiting. Give the relics to your queen, Bishop."

"I will see if I can visit you later this eve," Bishop Axel said.

The orb and scepter glinted with golden light as Elsa picked them from the cushion. She remembered the last time she had held them.

"Queenly," Ornsten murmured.

"Remember that you are a queen, Elsa Arendelle," Bishop Axel said softly in her ear. His hands shook. "Maximilian can take your lands and your crown, but you are still a queen. Walk tall and show them."

Elsa stared at Bishop Axel and nodded slowly.

Ornsten stepped away from the archway and gestured for Elsa to walk forward.

She held her head high and stepped into silence. Hundreds of eyes turned to watch her as her first few steps echoed through the chapel.

She did not look at them. She ignored their smiles and their sneers dripping with superiority.

She walked.

Maximilian waited at the apex of the chapel, dressed in red robes and golden armour. Every inch of him appeared a king of legend. She imagined his golden armour turned to ice. She imagined his skin turn to frost, biting his flesh as his mouth twisted in a silent scream.

She took the steps towards Maximilian slowly.

His green eyes were iron. _He knows._

Elsa stopped on the final stair and held the orb and scepter as tightly as she could. _If it weren't for the bonds_... She breathed out and held the orb and sceptre for Maximilian to take.

Maximilian took the orb and scepter of Arendelle and lifted them high into the air for all the nobles to see.

The Ovelians burst into applause.

Elsa's golden bracers burned.

After the ceremony, Ornsten lead Elsa to Arendelle's Great Hall, which had been packed full of tables and benches. Fires were burning merrily in every hearth and every candle in the chandeliers illuminated the room with warm light. Roasted meats, vegetables, warm trenchers of bread and delicacies from both Ovelia and Arendelle filled the tables. The smell was enough to make Elsa's mouth water. The meal Ornsten had brought to her that afternoon was nice, but it had not done enough to satisfy the knot in her stomach. But the thought of what the Ovelians were celebrating was enough for Elsa to sit back in her chair and ignore the tender portions placed in front of her.

"You're doing yourself no favours, Queen Elsa," Ornsten said once, looking at her untouched plate.

Elsa did not reply and eventually Ornsten rose from his seat and left to mingle with the Ovelian nobles.

Noble families from Arendelle were in the Great Hall too, and were easily spotted.

_They all look so worried_, Elsa thought.

Maximilian had granted her a seat at the high table, away from the table where the Arendelle nobility sat cowed. A torch burned brightly behind her, shining through her hair and turning the pale tresses to molten gold. She was thankful she had been seated away from the musicians, who were playing a fast song honouring Maximilian's victory over a rival house during the civil war. The Ovelians were roaring with laughter with every verse. Maximilian wore a wide grin from his seat at the centre of the high table and laughed louder than anyone as the musicians finished their song.

A man with iron grey hair and a thick beard approached Elsa and sat down on Ornsten's vacated seat beside her. He looked at her for a moment, hard eyes taking in her sunken features and the dark rings around her eyes.

"Queen Elsa," he said finally, "do you remember me?"

Elsa thought for a moment, frowning. She recognised those hard, grey eyes. "Lord Yeoman," Elsa said. "Of course I do, you were at my coronation."

"A brighter time than this," Lord Yeoman said, glaring at the red cloaked Ovelian solders flanking every doorway in the hall. "I dislike seeing so much red in your father's halls – _your_ halls, my queen."

"Maximilian's halls now," Elsa corrected bitterly.

Lord Yeoman leaned in close and said, "And that's a greater sin than most. I'm sorry that I could not bring my soldiers in time to help you when you needed it most, and now it is too late for them to bring any aid – not with the Ovelian's occupying the city."

Elsa was still. "This is not a good place to be talking of this, Lord Yeoman," she said with a sideways glance at Ornsten, who was talking with an Ovelian nobleman.

"Good, or not, this is the only chance I have," Lord Yeoman replied. "Maximilian is allowing no one to climb your tower, not even his own noble men and women, who wish very much to see you and speak to you."

Elsa frowned. "No one has tried talking to me yet."

"If I know the Ovelian court, they will wait."

"For what?"

Lord Yeoman snorted. "They don't want to seem too eager to speak with you. When we arrived, Maximilian forced us to give him hostages to 'ensure our cooperation'." Lord Yeoman snorted. "If they try to aid you, or act in any way, the Ovelians will start placing heads on a pikes. Until they know what Maximilian intends, they will do nothing."

"You keep saying 'they'," Elsa said. "Did you not give a hostage too."

"Edmund, my youngest boy," Lord Yeoman said, voice hard.

"I will not ask you – anyone – to help me if it means more people will die."

"And I will not see my Queen wither in an Ovelian cage," Lord Yeoman said firmly, curling his fist. "I promise you, Elsa, I will see you safe from this place, whatever the price. Owen would agree, if he was here." He cut off and leaned back in his chair.

Orsten had parted ways from an Ovelian noble and was walking back towards the table.

"It seems like our conversation is at an end, my queen," Lord Yeoman said, rising. "Do not despair. You are never truly alone."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Authors Note: A slower chapter compared to last, but I was trying to show the difficulty of Elsa's situation. She has had a lot taken from her and the victors are still trying to take more. We're starting to see more people in the Ovelian army now, as well as some important figures later on.

Thanks to my reviewers!


	5. Chapter 5: Fire

Chapter Five

\- Fire -

* * *

Aedan woke up screaming.

It tore through his throat vehemently, but the soft flesh was so raw only a pained moan escaped. A tempest raged within his body - so hot and so bitterly cold at the same time. He tried to open his eyes, but the light made his head pound with renewed fury. Yet all of that was a lover's caress compared to the pain which wracked his ribs and made bile creep up his parched throat.

"Stay still," someone commanded in a gentle voice. Aedan felt a warm hand touch his forehead and cheek, inflaming him. He wanted to see who it was, but he was too afraid to open his eyes. "He's feverish."

"Infection's stuck in," a hard voice said. "He's dead - won't last the night."

"He will," the first voice dripped determination.

Those same warm fingers pushed his lips apart and the gentle voice cooed at him until he opened his mouth. The thought of cool water spurred him. Instead of water, something thick and soft was forced between his teeth.

"Scream if you need to," the gentle voice whispered.

_I can't_. The thought came and drifted away.

His side exploded with fire.

And Aedan screamed.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

The next time he woke up was better, though his side throbbed painfully and his throat felt it had not felt water in days. He tried not to swallow, but he could not stop. The pounding in his head had vanished, and so had the urge to vomit, but he felt so sweaty and struggled to move his hands or feet.

He opened his eyes hesitantly, vague images of a bright light attacking his eyes crossed his mind. Soft candlelight illuminated the room, casting long shadows he could not examine. He blinked until he could focus on a single flame burning on a blurred table beside him.

"Don't move."

"I wasn't," Aedan rasped, as he moved his head to find the voice. _Is that really my voice_?

Red eyes glinted at him from an armchair beside his bed. He focused on a pair of purple lips and watched them smile at him.

"You escape Death's scythe and your first waking words to me are lies," Alexia said.

Aedan's grin quickly twisted as his side pulsed in pain. "Water?" he asked, swallowing painful.

Alexia placed a cup of water to his lips and Aedan drank thirstily, spilling some. The water was cold and tasted faintly of honey. The cup dripped with condensation. Aedan would have licked the drops if Alexia did not pull the cup away.

"More?" he asked.

"Only one more," Alexia replied as she refilled the cup from a silver jug. Aedan drank slowly and made sure he did not spill.

"I can't have another?"

"You'll just throw it back up," Alexia said. "If you're still awake in half an hour I'll give you some more."

Aedan lifted his head, ignoring Alexia's click of disapproval. The bedsheets had been pushed down to his waist, revealing the bloody bandages wrapped thickly around his chest and over top of them were two belts wrapped around his torso, one across his nipples and the other under his ribcage. He closed his eyes and remembered the stroke that had cut through his armour and into his flesh. He remembered hearing bones crack. "How bad was it?"

Alexia rose and placed a gentle hand on his chest, pushing him back to the pillows. "You should be dead," she said. "When it looked like you were going to survive the wound, the fever set in. You've been fighting it for days. It only broke at dusk."

"What time is it now?"

"A few hours before dawn."

"And you're still awake?"

"Someone needed to sit with you."

"How sweet of you."

Alexia's red eyes narrowed and glared at him.

Aedan sighed and thought back. Lennox's armour had slowed him down and his eyes hinted exactly where he was going to strike. Aedan had danced around him, prodding, misdirecting, taunting. _Yet it was his armour that saved his heart from my _sword. "He baited my blow."

"Did he?" Alexia seemed bored.

Aedan smirked. "You don't care about the fight?"

"It did nothing but stoke our king's ego and reveal the depths of Elsa's foolishness."

"All fight I had been leaving openings for Lennox to exploit and when he took them, I countered hard. I'm sure I broke his nose and if he wore softer armour I would have cut his heart in half. Then he baited my strike, I overextended, and he punished me for it. I fell for the same trap I had been setting the entire duel. I'm sure Mat will have some choice words to say about it."

Alexia said nothing as she inspected her long nails by the candlelight.

"My heart hasn't beat so fast since I duelled the Painted Knight in the Woodlands Campaign. It was a blur after Lennox cut me, I remember drawing my dagger and stabbing it as hard as I could into his thigh."

"You drew his heart-blood," Alexia commented.

_And cut off his head, _Aedan thought. Lennox's head had been the last thing he saw before he collapsed. "What happened afterwards?"

"Elsa and her guards tried to escape into the city," Alexia said. "It was a small matter to counter her winter with heat. Your friend Ornsten and his men held off her guards while I sealed her magic."

"Did we assault the city?"

"Hardly. Elsa's soldiers laid down their arms when they saw the sword against their queen's throat. Maximilian holds Arendelle now. We're in the palace. You're sleeping in Princess Anna's bed."

"Notably, without Princess Anna beside me."

Alexia sniffed.

"Is Queen Elsa still alive?"

"Maximilian has her locked away in the north tower."

Aedan snorted. "Of course he does. Has Max heaped a thousand honours on your head for your services to the realm?"

"I've been too busy keeping you alive."

Aedan held out his hand to Alexia.

Alexia glanced at his hand before shifting forward and taking it in both of hers. "If you had died, Maximilian would have had be tied to a stake and burned alive."

"Would that even hurt you?"

"No," Alexia said, "but Maximilian would soon realise and send his executioner after me with his blood-stained cleaver."

"You would escape Rathmore," Aedan said certainly.

"Perhaps."

"I don't think Maximilian would kill you, even if I died. He knows that this invasion would not have been possible without you."

"I'm glad to know I'm appreciated," Alexia said dryly.

Aedan stifled a yawn, but as he moved his side throbbed painfully. He felt his eyelids droop. "Stop it, Alexia," he said drowsily.

"You need to sleep."

"I've slept long enough."

"You're still very weak." Alexia smoothed back his hair. "Fear not. I'll watch over you."

"You are fond of me, aren't you?" Aedan would have smiled at her, but his mind was rapidly emptying. His eyes closed and his head rolled to the side.

Alexia kissed his forehead. "Sleep."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

His wound itched.

Alexia had allowed him out of bed the next day, but only so Maximilian's physician could inspect his stitches and remove the belts supporting his ribs. The old man grumbled and muttered something about remaining still and resting before replacing the old, bloody dressing with a new one.

"Is that really necessary?" Aedan protested when the physician placed his arm against his chest and wrapped it in a tight sling.

"Yes," the physician bluntly replied as he finished tied the sling securely over Aedan's shoulder. "Now go back to bed."

As soon as the physician left Aedan pulled on and tied his boots (a difficult task with one hand) and shrugged into his crimson soldier's coat. It had been washed and cleaned and smelt lightly like the flowers it had been pressed in. He was almost at the bedchamber door when he heard a brisk knock and saw someone push open the door as if the room was his own.

Matrim Beoulve shared his father's look. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with green eyes the same colour as the forest-plains around the Beoulve lands. His brown hair was swept back neatly. He looked Aedan up and down for a moment, taking in his bed-hair and dishevelled appearance, before entering the bed-chamber and looking around.

"I am glad to see you well," Matrim said in a voice that could hardly be called warm.

"As am I," Aedan replied.

Matrim wrickled his nose. "You could use a bath."

"There'll be time for that this afternoon."

Matrim ignored his comment and asked, "Is the witch here?"

_What's he getting at?_ Aedan shrugged and pretended not to understand. "I believe she's locked away in the north tower, not hiding in my bed-chamber."

"Alexia," Matrim said coldly.

"Ah, she was here earlier."

"Where did she go?"

"I didn't ask."

"You do realise you're playing a very dangerous game with her?" Matrim walked over to the bedside table and picked up the red-gemmed dagger Aedan had left there. It had been cleaned oiled since it had been doused in Lennox's life blood. Aedan wondered idly if Alexia had done it.

"You've never cared before." Aedan said, following him.

"You _are_ my brother," Matrim replied.

_Brother? _"It's been a long time since you called me that," Aedan said.

"You've done Ovelia a great service. I'm proud of you, as is father."

Aedan frowned. _Proud of me?_ "Why are you here?"

Matrim dropped the dagger back onto the table. "Father and King Maximilian are holding council in the throne room. They desire to speak with you, so you best button up that coat properly before we go."

"I never thought you'd deign to be a messenger," Aedan said as he used his free hand to button his coat.

"I may be proud of you, but you will not turn that forked tongue on me."

Arendelle castle was filled with red-cloaked soldiers. A pair of guards stood at most of the doorways and more patrolled the grounds and the outer city. Soldiers stopped to greet Aedan and Matrim as they walked past, mostly to congratulate him on his victory. Aedan grinned widely and called out the names of the soldiers he knew. Others frowned at Aedan and avoided his gaze as he walked past.

"If that's wasn't a name-worthy deed, I don't know what is," a long-muscled man said to Aedan from a bench at the end of a long hallway as he ran a whetstone down his straight-sword. "We'd probably be stuck outside the gates with another sodding winter hounding us if you hadn't killed that ice bitch's champion."

The soldier gave a voice to a thought that had been plaguing Aedan's mind. He glanced at Matrim, who was looking away, and said nothing.

The throne room had been draped with Ovelian red. Maximilan's griffon banner hung from the highest rafter behind the throne, while the banners of other houses who had come to Arendelle draped the walls. Aedan quickly spotted the roaring lion of House Beoulve next to House Ashaela's crescent eagle at prominent places near the throne. Maximilian was not sitting on the throne, as Aedan had expected, but was sitting at the head of a heavy table, speaking quietly to a handful of Ovelian noblemen. The hall was otherwise empty. Matrim and Aedan's footsteps echoed loudly, and the conversation from the table drifted towards them.

"Ser Ornsten is preparing the queen as we speak. I don't anticipate any trouble from her tonight," Lord Ashaela said from his place at the table as he scratched his growth of beard. Ashaela had a tradition of not shaving his beard during periods of war. "Not with her sorcery sealed."

"She could still rally the remaining soldiers and townsfolk against us," little Lord Flavian said.

"I doubt the Arendellian lords will fight, not with their younglings in the dungeons," Lord Ashaela replied. "Though I do suggest moving the children to more adequate lodging." He cast a sideways look at Maximilian. "We can make room in the eastern wing."

"When we return to Ovelia they will have honoured places in the palace, as befits their noble status," Maximilian said. "Until then, they will remain in the dungeons where their families will not be tempted to rescue them." He cast his eye towards Aedan and Matrim and smiled widely. "We'll continue this discussion in a moment."

Matrim lowered himself to one knee in a sweeping bow.

Aedan bent to one knee and lowered his head. He could not complete the bow with his arm tied in a sling.

"Ovelia's champion returns from death," Maximilian said grandly. "Stand." He placed a hand on Aedan's shoulder and nodded his head towards the wound. "How is it?"

"Painful." Aedan grinned.

"We've both seen men die from wounds like yours," Maximilian said. "I believe you may have Alexia to thank for your life."

"I hear you gave her sufficient motivation," Aedan replied.

"She spent half the night staring into the depths of a fire, I thought it was time she went to your side."

"A kind thought," Aedan said.

"I thought so too." Maximilian strode back to the heavy table and picked up a sword in a silver-etched sheathe. "I retrieved this from the plains where you fought Arendelle's Captain Lennox. I thought you might like it."

Aedan took the sword and tucked the sheathe under his free arm. He awkwardly pulled the sword a few inches from its scabbard, enough to reveal some of the pale blade that had nearly taken his life. Whisper had been cleaned and sharpened since his life blood had stained its blade. Aedan looked at his pale reflection and tried not to think of the moment when the sword had nearly killed him.

"Captain Lennox's sword is yours now, Aedan," Maximilian said. "'Tis only small reward for your service to me."

Aedan let Whisper fall into its sheathe and said, "Thank you."

Maximilian nodded and turned back to the table. "You will be further honoured when we return home, but first we must get this house in order. I believe we're almost done. Continue, Lord Ashaela."

Lord Ashaela frowned at Aedan before speaking.

_That was a rather rotten look. _Lord Ashaela had always shown him pitied kindness, perhaps because he was secure in the knowledge that Aedan had never beaten his son in combat. But he had always shown the nameless bastards running around Ovelia more kindness and sympathy than other lords. In the years Aedan had known Lord Ashaela he had never seen _that_ look from him before.

"The troops have not reported any resistance from the countryside," Ashaela said.

"What about word from Corona?" Maximilian asked.

"Nothing."

"Not a thing?"

"I expect we'll receive an envoy carrying a strongly-worded condemnation, but they do not seem to be stirring from their castles. Weselton, however, has offered their assistance with the governance of Arendelle."

"They just want their trade agreements with Arendelle back." Maximilian waved his hand in dismissal. "We'll send a polite refusal and deal with them later."

"The Southern Isles have maintained their neutrality," Lord Flavian added. "They do not wish to stoke our ire, nor do they want to anger Corona."

"So we must wait to hear from Corona," Maximilian said. He looked around the table, somehow managing to take in all of the greying lords in a single glance. "Is there anything else?"

"Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow," Lord Beoulve said, rising.

"Rathmore executed the three men who disobeyed your orders and looted a store when we took the city," Lord Ashaela said.

"Good," Maximilian said. "Have their heads put on pikes outside the city gates. Let it serve as a reminder to any others who have thoughts of pillaging these people's homes. Have the store owners been paid reparations?"

"Not yet, my king."

"See it done before tonight. Thirty gold pieces should more than suffice."

"As you will." Lord Ashaela stood and bowed to Maximilian.

"That's an extravagant sum for a shopkeeper," Matrim commented.

"And a necessary one," Maximilian said. "If Arendelle is to join with Ovelia then the people need to love us. A bit of gold and swift punishments are small prices to pay."

"I see," Matrim said thoughtfully.

"Which reminds me, how goes your investigation into those squirrels?"

Aedan suppressed a grin as Matrim's face darkened. Alexia had told him about the group of Arendellian children who roamed the streets and played tricks on the Ovelian patrols. Maximilian had dubbed them the squirrels after hearing how they broke into the docks one night and stole three sacks of roasted chestnuts.

"I've yet to find any leads," Matrim admitted. "I have extra patrols scouring the streets, with their routes changing every night. If the squirrel's act again, I'm certain we'll capture them."

"They have been growing bolder with each act," Lord Beoulve said. "I hear that last night they rolled barrels full of wet manure down a hill at one of your patrols."

Aedan sniggered, and Maximilian shot him a quick grin.

The tips of Matrim's ears went red.

"Consider yourself fortunate they only use manure to attack the patrols, not crossbows," Maximilian said, clapping Matrim on the shoulder.

"My King," Matrim replied, inclining his head.

"Dismissed," Maximilian said. "We'll meet again tomorrow morning before holding court."

The lords at the table saluted and rose.

"Hold a moment, Aedan," Maximilian said as Aedan went to leave. "A word?"

"Of course," Aedan replied.

Maximilian led Aedan away from the lords around the table until they were standing beside Arendelle's throne. Aedan couldn't shake the curious and disapproving looks being cast in his direction.

Maximilian leaned in and said, "It may be best if you forgo tonight's proceedings."

"Why?" Aedan asked, taken aback.

Maximilian sighed. "How long have you and Alexia been . . . intimate?"

"What?"

"Don't play the fool with me."

"Not long."

"Aedan," Maximilian said warningly.

"The eve before we set sail."

Maximilian shook his head. "I wish you had told me sooner." He almost sounded disappointed.

"Why? You don't tell me every time you and Emilia-" Aedan cut off and looked away as Maximilian's turned his stern, kingly glare on him.

"Do not overstep," Maximilian said quietly. "I believe that's how Lennox put his sword in you."

Aedan's wound itched.

"If you had told me," Maximilian continued, "I may have been able to keep word of your relationship from spreading, but now I wager most of the army knows. I hear enough grumbling about allowing her to walk around freely, but now she has found her way into the bed of Ovelia's champion. The men are not happy. They wonder how much influence she has over you."

"A bastard champion, with little influence."

"You underestimate yourself. You're a popular figure in the army and your reputation has only grown since you bested Lennox. I'm concerned about how that will change when we return to Ovelia and word spreads further about your . . . relationship with a sorceress."

"They would all be dead without her," Aedan said. "You would never have won your throne without her! I would have died trying to get though that ungodly storm without her. Elsa would be raining icy death on us right now if it were not for _her._"

"I am well aware." Maximilian did not speak loudly, but his voice boomed in the empty hall. Aedan looked over his shoulder and saw every lord in Maximilian's council looking his way.

Maximilian took Aedan's shoulder and said in a low voice. "We've been friends for more than ten years, Aedan. I've bled for you and you've nearly died for me. Rest tonight. Give your wounds time to heal and give the lords and their men time to get over their grumbling. And stop _fucking_ that witch."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Alexia's lips warmed his skin. Every touch sent fiery tingles through his body, igniting him and filling him with life. It had been four days since Maximilian's warning, but Aedan had not listened. He was sure Maximilian knew it too, but the king had not said anything.

She kissed her way down his body, spreading her warmth on his neck and chest.

She stopped at the wound, unbound and bare.

The swelling had come down over the last week, but the surrounding skin was a rainbow of purple, red and green bruises. Maximilian's physician had supported his cracked ribs and sewn his flesh back together, and Alexia had woven fire into his flesh to help "ease the pain". When she used her magic it felt like she had sewn in a burning coal from the fire.

She was making it up to him now though.

Red eyes emerged from under his blankets and thick, beautifully soft black hair fell onto his chest, framing her pale, heart-shaped face. Purple lips smiled at him wickedly.

The soldiers thought that her lips were stained from the potions she drank, but Aedan had quickly figured out that it was only rouge. Her eyes unnerved him. Her lips were just a trick, but he could not explain her eyes. They were a constant reminder of what she was beneath her raven-haired beauty.

But at least she was always warm.

Thunder boomed around the castle and bolts of lightning flashed through the stained-glass windows. The heavy rain dampened the noise from the yard and the courtyard below and the winds took what was left.

Aedan touched Alexia's cheek and pushed her hair back over her ear. The movement stretched his stitches, but it did not hurt as it once had.

"Our relationship is no longer secret," Aedan said.

Alexia kissed the palm of his hand, before slinking sensuously forward to kiss his lips. "Does it concern you?"

"No." Aedan shook his head.

"But you're concerned about what people think when they hear you are lover to a sorceress?"

"I don't care what other people think."

"You can't lie to me, Aedan." Alexia kissed his neck.

The single candle on the bedside table burned and flickered brightly as Alexia reached beneath the blankets, took him in her hand, and positioned herself gently.

A pleased sigh escaped her lips as she lowered herself onto him.

As warmth spread throughout Aedan's body, he forgot all about his king and his warning.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

He woke up with a knife point under his chin.

"Not a sound, or I'll cut your throat," a gruff voice hissed at him through the darkness.

Aedan opened his eyes and remained still. A single, half-shuttered lantern burned by the doorway, casting a flickering light through the bedchamber. The candle Alexia had lit earlier that night had burned itself out. He moved his eyes to the side, trying to see the raven-haired sorceress through the darkness.

Steel picked up the small light from the lantern and gleamed.

A dark-hooded figure had dragged Alexia from bed and held a blade to her throat, pressing so deeply Aedan could just make out the trickle of blood sliding down her pale skin.

"It's Maximilian's champion," the man holding Aedan said, surprised.

"I did hear something about him and the sorceress," the leader of the group said, uninterestedly. "Bind his hands."

_Gossipy pricks._

"It doesn't look like he can do much with his hands free." The man holding him slapped Aedan's wound. He had to grit his teeth and bite down hard to keep from screaming. A pained groan escaped and the knife tightened warningly against his throat.

"Captain Lennox put a sword through his side, but he was still able to turn the fight around and cut off his head," the leader said sharply. "I'll not say again. _Bind his hands_ and kill him if he moves for that knife of his."

Aedan winced as the soldier pulled him out of the bed. His arms were pulled behind his back and his wrists tied tightly together with cord.

The leader of the dark clad band moved his hand and one of the men with him closed the bedchamber door.

"A little more light, if you please."

The man holding the lantern fiddled with its shutters, before lifting the lantern higher and allowing its gentle light to illuminate the bedchamber.

"We're not here for blood," the leader said. With the light, Aedan could see a thick, greying beard and a lined face. He looked a little like Lord Beoulve, but those eyes were grey stone. "Do what we ask and your lives will be spared. That's a greater mercy than either of you deserve."

"What do you want, Lord Yeoman?" Alexia asked.

If the grey-bearded man was taken back, he gave no sign. He stepped to the side and looked at a very slender figure hidden beneath a dark blue hood and cloak.

The slender figure stepped forward and gold glinted as hands reached up to remove the hood.

Queen Elsa looked different to the woman Aedan remembered seeing a week ago. She had not responded well to her time locked away in the tower. Her skin seemed almost ashen, and her eyes looked significantly bigger, but far less innocent than they had. Those blue eyes were ice and cold.

Elsa pulled back her sleeves and showed Alexia a pair of golden bracers locked around either wrist. Aedan breathed in sharply.

"Remove them." Elsa's voice was quiet, but it demanded attention.

Alexia said nothing.

Lord Yeoman stepped forward. "Remove them, or we will kill you."

"The enchantment will not end with my death," Alexia said, red eyes calm.

"Then how?" Elsa demanded.

When Alexia did not reply, Lord Yeoman shook his head and pointed at Aedan. "Open his wound," he told the soldier holding him.

Aedan stiffened and tried to jerk back, but the soldier just tightened his grip. The knife left his neck and dug at the topmost stitch. Pain blossomed behind Aedan's eyes as dark blood welled up and dripped down his side.

A guttural moan escaped Aedan's mouth as the soldier cut the second stitch and twisted the knife tip inside the opening.

Pity flickered across Elsa's face, but her lips remained pursed and her eyes were still ice.

"Tell us how to break the enchantment," Lord Yeoman ordered Alexia.

The knife hovered over the third stitch.

Thunder rumbled lazily over the castle, and all of the hooded men stiffened as a new sound rang over the howling wind and rain. The castle bells echoed loudly, mingling with the storm to set Aedan's heart racing. His eyes darted to Alexia, who was staring at Elsa and Lord Yeoman through narrowed eyes. She paid no attention to the knife at her throat or the man behind her holding it.

Lord Yeoman swore and turned to Elsa. "They found the body," he hissed. "I'm sorry, but we have to leave, my queen. We've taken too much time!"

Elsa nodded and covered the golden cuffs with her sleeves.

Lord Yeoman escorted Elsa back to the bedchamber door and said over his shoulder moved towards the door. "Kill them both!"

Alexia's eyes erupted with flame and the fire in the lantern blazed with sudden brightness and heat. The soldier holding it cried out and let go of the handle. The glass shattered against the floor and flames ignited the spilt oil. Foul-smelling smoke drifted upwards.

The soldier holding Alexia screamed as his heavy cloak burst into flame.

Alexia grabbed the soldier's knife, spun and plunged it deep into the his neck. Eyes still blazing, she stretched out her hand and hooked her fingers towards the oil-fire burning hotly on the thick rug.

The flames rose and twisted, burning brighter and hotter until they took the shape of a burning hound. It snarled and paced in a slow circle, footsteps flickering with flame and blackening the stone. Its eyes were blacker than coal and never left the Arendellian soldiers.

Fear attacked Aedan's body as the hound suddenly howled and leapt at him. The hound passed through Aedan's body, leaving him coughing and choking. An unnatural scream pierced Aedan's ears as the hound fell on the Arendelle soldier behind him and consumed him in fire.

Aedan scrambled away, ignoring the throbbing pain in his side as Alexia's hound darted around him and stood between Alexia and the remaining Arendelle soldiers. The soldiers had drawn their swords and were watching the fiery hound carefully.

"See the queen safe!" Lord Yeoman barked, as he wrenched open the bedchamber door and pulled Elsa through the opening behind him. "Go!"

One of the soldiers stepped forward and struck the hound a large, overhand blow.

The sword passed harmlessly through the fire and hit the ground with a loud _clang_. The hound drew back and leapt at the soldier, tearing at his throat and consuming him in flames.

Alexia touched the trickle of blood on her throat and snarled. She jerked her head and the hound bounded through the bedchamber door, racing off in pursuit.

The sorceress started forward.

"My hands!" Aedan said quickly, turning around to present his tied hands to the sorceress.

Alexia cut Aedan's bounds in one smooth motion before tossing the bloody knife on the floor. "Alert the guards," she ordered. "I'm going after Elsa."

Aedan strode over to his armour rack and pulled Whisper from it's slender sheathe. The white blade shone. "I'm coming with you."

"No!" Alexia snarled. "You're far from whole. You'll only get in the way."

Aedan gritted his teeth and placed his hand over his bleeding wound. _She's right. _"Be careful."

Alexia didn't reply. She stepped into the flames still burning the body of the soldier who had attacked her hound and waited. The fire licked her naked body, eating its way around her until she was fully consumed by orange and yellow flames. Her dark hair billowed out behind her as though taken by a strong wind.

"Alexia...?" Aedan's voice cracked.

Alexia looked over her shoulder and bright red eyes stabbed fear deep inside Aedan's body.

She was fire.

"Go!" she shouted in a voice infinitely deeper than her own.

Alexia turned and sped through the door. As she ran, the fiery footsteps left by the hound joined her.

Aedan was left in darkness. He only stopped to grab his breeches from the foot of the bed before sprinting out of the door as fast as his wound would allow. The room stunk of smoke and burning flesh so badly it made his stomach turn. He looked to his right and saw Alexia's orange light burning it's way around a corner.

He could not shake the fear that had burned its way inside his heart.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Author's Note: Brand new POV in this chapter. Elsa will always be the main POV character, but I thought it was really important to have an Ovelian's perspective in the story too. I enjoyed writing this chapter a lot.

Huge thanks to all reviewers :)


	6. Chapter 6: Stormlight Part One

Chapter Six

\- Stormlight Part One -

* * *

Elsa watched the storm through the narrow slit of window in her tower. Rain poured through the opening, dousing her face and hair. Summer storms were rare in Arendelle, but when they did come they came with madness. Lightning danced across the black clouds, occasionally arcing downwards to attack the ground. Thunder rumbled slowly like an old beast stretching its body across the sky. The moon and stars were blanketed by the thick clouds, and the only light came from the lightning raging through the sky.

Her curled her hands into fists and squeezed so tightly she could feel her nails pierce her skin. Her bracers occasionally flared with heat, once so badly she tried in desperation to force her wrists through the openings, but no matter how hard she pushed, her hands would not come free.

She felt a drop run down her cheek and she did not think it was from the rain. She pressed her back against the wet stone wall and slid until she was sitting.

Each tear she shed was bitter.

_What are you doing?_ a small voice in her head said.

Through her tears, she saw a faint light appear in the crack beneath the tower door. Elsa frowned and moved away from the window as she listened to the key twist inside the door's heavy lock.

The door creaked open and Elsa's heart nearly skipped a beat. She hastily wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve and stood up.

Lord Yeoman entered the tower and looked around. He was wearing a thick, grey cloak with the hood back, revealing his iron beard and hair. His eyes settled on Elsa and hardened as he took in the stained grey dress she was wearing. His band of men waited outside, hooded and cloaked. They were all wearing boots wrapped with thick cloth to muffle any noise.

"I'm sorry you had to wait so long, my queen." Yeoman said as one of the hooded men tossed him a thick, navy blue cloak. "Put this on, quickly. We must move while the storm hides us."

Elsa shrugged into the heavy cloak Yeoman gave her. Warmth enveloped her, driving away the cold brought by the rain. She heard the shackle around her ankle move and looked down. Lord Yeoman was kneeling down and examining the chains.

"Forgive me, my lady," he said as he lifted her dress and inspected the shackle. He breathed in sharply.

Blood dripped down Elsa's ankle, rubbed red raw by the shackle keeping her chained to the stone. The metal was slick with blood.

"It doesn't hurt," Elsa said.

"You are a queen, not some common thief!" Yeoman replied vehemently. He looked over his shoulder and ordered one of the soldiers to bring him a mallet and spike. One of the hooded soldiers came forward knelt next to Yeoman. They wrapped the shackle in a length of cloth and hovered the spike over the locking pin.

Yeoman paused, mallet poised in the air and when the next roar of thunder raged through the tower he swung downwards and hit the spike as hard as he could.

Elsa gasped as she felt the shackle's bolt give way. Yeoman slipped the shackle away from Elsa's ankle and placed it gently to the side.

"Tell Cevin and Dex to bring the guards' bodies up the stairs," Yeoman told one of the hooded men. "We'll leave them here." At Elsa's questioning look, he said, "Two of them were guarding the staircase. We can only be thankful that since the ceremony they do not think you warrant more."

"How many were there before?"

"Too many to even attempt a rescue."

Cevan and Dex were large men and were easily able to carry the two guards over their shoulders.

"Strip them and take their place," Yeoman ordered. "The guard changes at dawn; make sure you are both gone before then."

The two soldiers nodded and began to remove the dead Ovelians' clothes.

"Come outside, my lady, you don't need to see this."

Elsa followed Yeoman out of the tower cell. Six others waited on the staircase, all hooded and cloaked. They inclined their heads to Elsa as she walked by.

"I did not think to bring you boots," Yeoman said apologetically. "I did not think that they would leave you without shoes."

"It's okay, Lord Yeoman," Elsa replied. "I'll be fine with bare feet. Will you tell me what your plan is?"

"I have some men waiting at the south-west postern gate," Yeoman said.

"That leads to the harbour," Elsa replied, eyebrows rising.

"There's an Ovelian force there, yes," Yeoman said, "but only a small guard of perhaps fifty men and they shouldn't pose a problem for much longer. There are plans in motion as we speak. I have a skiff waiting outside the Ovelian blockade. Once we reach it, you can sail south to Corona, or the Southern Isles if need be. The storm will aid your escape from the city, but you may have to wait for it to pass before you can set sail."

"Are you not coming too?"

"I . . . cannot," Yeoman said quietly.

Realisation sparked as Elsa remember what Lord Yeoman had told her when he spoke to her after Maximilian's ceremony. "The Ovelian's have your son."

Yeoman nodded. "If I'm not here when word of your escape spreads, I fear they will suspect me and execute my boy in response. These Ovelians know little mercy."

"I understand."

"I swear I will help you leave this city, Elsa," Lord Yeoman said vehemently. "I swear on my life."

"Thank you, Lord Yeoman," Elsa said. She held up her wrists and showed Yeoman the golden bracers sealing her magic.

"We must find their sorceress before we go," Elsa said.

Yeoman hesitated. "I'm not sure that's wise."

"They burn, Lord Yeoman." Elsa's voice almost broke. "so badly I can hardly bare it."

Yeoman was silent for a moment. "If that is your will, my queen."

"It is."

"The sorceress has taken a bedchamber on the fourth floor. We may be able to take her unawares." Yeoman scratched his beard thoughtfully. "We should take the chance to eliminate her while we can."

Elsa nodded and said savagely, "I agree."

They moved silently through the palace, footsteps muffled by the cloth wrapped around their boots. One of Lord Yeoman's men would stop and use a piece of mirror to peer around the corner before moving on.

"My men have spent the last three nights walking around the palace at night," Yeoman whispered to her as one of his men checked a corner. "Maximilian has men posted at all the entrances and exits, but my men have encountered no one patrolling the halls."

The soldier with the mirror suddenly froze and gently drew the mirror back to safety. He put a finger to his lips and pressed his body against the wall. "Soldier," he mouthed and held up a single finger.

Elsa flattened herself against the wall, next to Yeoman, who pointed at one of the soldiers and jerked his thumb back towards the staircase they just came down. The soldier crept back to keep watch.

Soft footsteps reached Elsa's ears, slowly growing louder and echoed towards them. Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain that the approaching Ovelian would hear it – how could he not?

Red clothing appeared at the corner. Yeoman's soldier sprang out, quickly wrapping his arm around the Ovelian's neck. The Ovelian's mouth opened and the beginnings of a cry for help emerged, but Yeoman's soldier smothered the Ovelian's mouth with his hand, cutting the sound off. Fear danced on the Ovelian's soldier's face as he silently struggled to break free. There was a loud snap and the Ovelian's eyes rolled to the back of his head. His body went limp.

Yeoman's soldier breathed out slowly and lowered the Ovelian to the ground.

"Put him on that bench," Yeoman ordered, pointing at a narrow bench behind a huge portrait of Arendelle castle from five-hundred years ago. "Make it look like he's sitting down."

The soldier who killed the Ovelian looked up in surprise. "We should take him with us."

"And bring the whole castle on us with the noise his armour would make?" Yeoman retorted. "No, leave him here and pray no one else comes."

To his credit, the soldier did not argue further and placed the dead Ovelian on the bench. He and another soldier quickly adjusted the soldier until it looked like he had sat down to rest.

"Keep moving," Yeoman said with a long look at Elsa, as though asking her once more to change her mind.

Elsa set her jaw and moved after Yeoman's soldiers.

They jogged along several more hallways and went down another staircase until they reached the sorceress's bedchamber halfway down the hall. Lord Yeoman tested the door handle and scowled. "Locked," he mouthed.

Elsa scowled. "This is Anna's room," she whispered furiously.

"Maximilian rests in your parents' room and one of his lords has taken your bedroom. They rule this castle now."

One of the soldiers knelt in front of the door and pulled out a pair of thin tools from his sleeve. He inserted the tools into the lock and moved them delicately. The soldier holding the shuttered lantern moved closer.

Fiery excitement burned in Elsa's chest. It was a struggle to remain still and not bounce from heel to heel.

The lock clicked.

The soldier removed his tools and made them disappear back into his sleeve. Lord Yeoman tried the door handle again and pushed it all the way down. The door inched open to a darkened room.

"Carefully," Yeoman whispered as he pushed the door open.

The soldiers crept inside. Elsa followed them, trying to move a quietly as she could.

"There's two of them," a soldier whispered.

"The sorceress?" Yeoman hissed.

"On the right."

"Take her first," Yeoman whispered in the soldier's ear. "Drag her out of bed, get behind her and put your knife so close to her throat you'll cut it if she swallows. Don't take any chances."

The soldier nodded and crept back into the blackened room.

Lennox pulled another soldier forward. "Same goes for the other," he said.

Elsa could just make out the form of the first soldier in the lantern light as reached the sorceress and dragged her swiftly from the bed. The sorceress's eyes flew open and widened in surprise, but she did not cry out, even when the soldier's knife slipped and scratched her neck. Elsa looked away as blood trickled down the sorceress's ivory skin.

The second soldier was leaning over the bed, holding his knife at the man's throat. He looked over his shoulder and said, surprised, "It's Maximilian's champion."

"I did hear rumours about him and the sorceress," Yeoman said. "Bind his hands."

"It doesn't look like he can do much, even with his hands free." The soldier slapped Aedan's wound. Elsa winced at the guttural groan that escaped Aedan's lips.

"Captain Lennox put a sword through his side, but he was still able to turn the fight around and cut off his head," Yeoman said. "I'll not say again. _Bind his hands_ and kill him if he moves for that knife of his." Yeoman nodded his head towards a bedside table, at a small red jewel glinting in the lantern's shallow light.

The soldier pulled Aedan from the bed and forced his hands behind his back.

Yeoman raised his hand and one of his soldier's closed the bedchamber door behind them. "A little more light, if you please."

Elsa pulled her hood a little lower as the soldier unshuttered the lantern and cast its light around the room. Long shadows stretched across Anna's forest rug and across the walls. She moved to the side and let the rest of Yeoman's men come forward.

"We're not here for blood," Yeoman told the sorceress, with a sidelong look at Aedan. Elsa couldn't help but look at the trickle of blood now making its way between the sorceress's breasts.

"Do what we ask," Yeoman continued, "and your lives will be spared. That's a greater mercy than either of you deserve."

The sorceress raised her chin, ever so slightly and asked, "What do you want, Lord Yeoman?"

Elsa walked past Yeoman and removed her hood. Ice blue eyes met blood red. The sorceress did not look surprised to see her. Those red eyes just looked at her, as if trying to see _through_ her.

The golden bracers burned uncomfortably. _She did this to me. _Elsa pulled back her sleeve and held her gold-covered wrists in front of the sorceress."Remove them," she said quietly. Even the storm seemed to cease for a moment, allowing her words to hover in the air.

The sorceress said nothing.

"Remove them, or we will kill you," Yeoman said.

"The enchantment will not end with my death," the sorceress said calmly.

"Then how?" Elsa demanded.

The sorceress remained quiet. Elsa saw Yeoman shake his head and point at Aedan.

"Cut open his wound," Yeoman told the soldier.

Aedan stiffened and tried to move away, but the soldier holding him just tightened the grip around his neck. The soldier dug his knife into Aedan's wound and cut the first stitch. Elsa made herself watch as dark blood welled up from the cut and trickled down Aedan's side.

When the soldier cut the second stitch he left his knifetip inside the wound and twisted. A groan of pain escaped Aedan's mouth and his eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head.

_He deserves more,_ Elsa reminded herself. She remembered how Aedan had turned Lennox around to look at her before he cut off her captain's head. It was easy to harden her heart.

"Tell us how to break the enchantment," Yeoman ordered the sorceress. "I'll not ask again."

A flash of lightning brightened the room, quickly followed by a roll of thunder rumbling lazily over the castle.

Bells tolled mournfully.

Fear mingled with the anticipation tingling in Elsa's legs.

"We are discovered," Lord Yeoman hissed. "I'm sorry, my lady, but we must go. We've taken too much time!"

Elsa brow furrowed in frustration. She pushed her sleeves down with more force than necessary, glaring at the sorceress. The sorceress did not look away, her scarlet eyes emotionless.

Yeoman took Elsa's arm and walked her back to the bedchamber door. He looked over his shoulder and said, "Kill them both."

Spots of colour danced in Elsa's eyes as the lantern suddenly erupted with light. The soldier holding it cried out and let go of the handle. The glass shattered against the floor and flames ignited the spilling oil. Elsa coughed and held her sleeve in front of her mouth and nose as foul smoke rose from the fire. Yeoman pulled her arm, forcing her away from the flames.

The soldier holding the sorceress screamed as his cloak burst into flame. The sorceress moved quickly, grabbing the knife from the soldier's flailing hand and jabbing it as hard as he could into his neck. She stretched out her hand towards the acrid flames burning Anna's rug.

The flames roared, twisting as if taken by a strong wind and burning brighter and hotter until the shape of a burning hound emerged. It snarled at Elsa and glared at her with eyes as black as the night outside. Then it leapt at the soldier holding Aedan.

Both men stared unbelievingly at the hound as it jumped at them. It passed through Aedan's body, leaving the man coughing and shaking vehemently. A piercing scream emerged from the soldier who had held Aedan as the hound fell on him and smothered him in fire.

Lord Yeoman drew his sword, and his remaining soldier's did the same. "See your queen safe," Yeoman ordered as he wrenched open the bedroom door and pulled Elsa outside.

It was almost a shock to be in the dark, cool hallways again after feeling the heat of the flames against her body. Yeoman pushed her forward, shouting for her to run.

They took a hard right and followed the hallway towards the castle's main staircase, feet stamping loudly. The bells had dispelled all thoughts of stealth and the constant fiery glow growing larger around the corner spurred their feet.

_The main staircase will surely be guarded_, Elsa thought. It was the quickest way out of the palace, but with the alarm sounding all around them, Elsa doubted Yeoman's agents would be able to help them.

A thought struck and she gave it voice.

"There's a passage behind the statue of Lidvald the Unfaithful," Elsa said urgently. "It leads into the town."

"What?" Yeoman looked at her sharply. "Where?"

"Inside the small sitting room," Elsa said as she pointed towards a white door carved with pale love roses and wildflowers further up the corridor.

"Are you certain?" Yeoman asked.

_No, but what choice is there?_ "Yes," Elsa said breathlessly.

When the reached the door, Elsa tried the doorhandle and her heart sunk. "Locked!" she said.

"Gudor," Lord Yeoman said quickly, standing to the side.

One of the soldier's stepped forward, raised his foot and kicked the door as hard as he could. The door splintered around the lock and burst open.

"Through, quickly!" Yeoman said.

Elsa looked back the way they had come as she sprinted through the doorway. Her heart nearly leapt into her throat as she saw the fiery hound dash around the corner. At the sight of them it lowered itself and continued its pursuit with renewed vigour. The light illuminating the corner did not shrink as the hound streaked down the hallway, in fact it only seemed to be growing brighter.

"Barricade the doorway," Yeoman ordered when everyone was through. He turned to Elsa. "Show us this passage."

The three remaining soldiers slammed the door closed and began overturning tables and chairs to stack against the door. Through the cracks in the wood and under the doorway, Elsa could see the fire from the hound grow brighter.

The small sitting room was the perfect description for the room. Elsa remembered her mother entertaining visiting ladies in the room during mid-summer. Elsa had asked why she liked to use this room when throughout the rest of the year she used the larger one on the second floor. Her mother had replied that there was always a cold draft inside the room which made it perfect for warm summer days. Elsa and Anna had scoured the room for the breeze in their youth, and eventually found it from behind an old statue of one of their ancestors.

The statue of Lidvald the Unfaithful was small, but then the man himself was rumoured to be a small man, but with big tastes. Elsa remembered her father telling the story to her and Anna when they were small, but he had told them the version where Lidvald used the passage to sneak chocolates and tasty treats from the town. Lennox had brought the story to her attention when he was researching the secret ways in and out of the palace. Elsa learned that it wasn't treats Lidvald had been sneaking into the palace, like her father's old stories told, but a beautiful baker's daughter half his age.

"Hurry, Elsa!"

_How did the old rhyme go? _Elsa thought desperately as she placed her hands on the statue. The orange light from the hallway had grown larger. _Anna and I used to laugh so much._

_ Lidvald was a man full grown,  
But never would he sit the throne. _

_He build a passage in the keep,  
To bring his maid to come and sleep._

_ Sweets, she brought, each time she came,  
Their love it seemed was none too tame._

_ Lidvald left early one winter's day,  
Called away by news from the bay._

_ Twist my hand, sweet love of mine,  
You must walk the passage alone this time._

_ When he was gone she turned his hand,  
And walked the tunnel now covered in sand._

_ A wrong turn she took as she thought to be wed,  
Poor girl, she's gone, lost and found dead._

Elsa took Lidvald's plump, stone hand and twisted. The hand moved easily, and a loud click sounded from deep within the statue.

"I need help," Elsa said as she pushed the statue as hard as she could.

Yeoman was immediately at her side and leant his strength to hers. The statue began to sink into the wall, pushing the white stone and mortar back until a pitch black tunnel was revealed.

Cold wind drifted through the opening.

"Go ahead, Gudor, find our way," Lord Yeoman ordered the soldier who had kicked down the door.

"When you get to the fork, you need to turn right," Elsa added. "If you keep going straight you'll get lost in the old mines." _Just like the girl in the story._ Gudor nodded and disappeared into the darkness.

Vicious snarling echoed through the sitting room from the other side of the doors. Bright light suddenly blossomed as the door and the barricades burst into flames.

"Hurry!" Yeoman shouted.

They fled into the passage, rushing down a set of spiral steps in near-darkness. The fire in the sitting from the sitting room aided their way at first, but soon they were enveloped in oppressing blackness. Elsa wished that they had another lantern to guide them. The breath rasped in Elsa's throat and the heat emanating from her bonds was almost unbearable. At times it was only Yeoman's steady grip on her arm that kept her from falling.

Eventually the staircase ended, and Elsa's feet touched rough sand. They couldn't see Gudor ahead of them.

A warm glow appeared on the staircase and the hound's snaps and growls followed them down.

Elsa looked over her shoulder as they ran down the sandy passageway. Behind Yeoman's remaining soldiers, the hound had made it to the bottom of the staircase and had it's head raised in pursuit. She could just make out his two black eyes around the twisting fire.

The right turn came quickly and they took it at a sprint.

The hound appeared at the corner not long afterwards and spurred their footsteps.

"The way ahead is bricked off!" Gudor's deep voice drifted towards them from further down the tunnel.

"Break through!" Yeoman shouted back at him.

Elsa looked over her shoulder again and her heart nearly froze with fear. Rounding the corner behind the hound was a being made of fire. It ran down the passage, flames blackening the rocky walls and blackening the sand beneath its feet. Black hair streamed out of its head. Elsa thought she could make out a pair of bloody eyes fixed on her.

Gudor had shed his heavy cloak and had unhooked his large metal shield from its place on his back. He stepped back a few paces, raised his shield and charge at the wall as hard he could. The bricks crumbled and Gudor fell heavily through. One of the other soldier's raised his foot and kicked the remaining bricks down.

Elsa scrambled through the opening, running past Gudor who was rising to his feet in a heavy cloud of white powder. Large sacks of flour were piled across the floor, and Gudor had gone straight into them.

_A bakery? _Elsa would have laughed if she weren't so scared.

The rest of the soldier's climbed through the opening and followed Elsa as she sprinted up the narrow staircase and burst into an empty kitchen. She ran by the cold ovens and piles of wood for burning, Yeoman and his soldiers on her heels. She could feel the heat from the unnatural hound burning the back of her neck. It's fire brightened the kitchen, making it seem almost merry.

Elsa pushed open the next door and emerged into the bakery's store front. Her heart pounded in her chest and adrenaline flowed through her body so rapidly her legs shook with energy with every step. She jumped over the shop's counter and wrestled with the heavy bar locking the door. One of the soldier's came up beside her and launched the bar to the side.

The storm hit her face, while the hound's fire seared her back. She leapt forward, embracing the storm. Rain splattered against her head, quickly drenching her hair and attacking her thick cloak furiously. He feet kicked up water as she slid to a stop and turned around.

The hound had skidded to a halt on the inside of the door where it was still dry. It's flaming jaws snapped angrily and occasionally it risked a fiery paw forward, but the deluge of storm water made it quickly withdraw.

_It won't follow!_

Yeoman rose to his feet and stamped out the end of his cloak with his muffled boot. "The hound almost had me," he said angrily. His soldiers' muttered something lost to the storm as they stamped at their own smouldering cloaks. One soldier's cloak burned so furiously he had to shrug out of it and toss it to the side.

"We have to keep moving!" Elsa said. "It's afraid to follow us into the storm."

The hound threw back its head and howled. Angry flames rose within the bakery, slowly consuming the wooden parts of the building despite the fury of the storm battling against it. The hound's eyes blazed as it stepped backwards into the fire.

Yeoman stepped back, and Elsa felt fear pound its way back into her heart.

Red eyes glared at them through the flames. They were surrounded by flowing black hair darker than the hound's coal-like eyes. It stood inside the burning doorway and screamed in fury. Elsa's bracers burned like they were on fire.

Elsa realised she was screaming too.

"Come away, my queen," Yeoman pulled her to her feet. She hadn't realised she had fallen.

The figure made of fire turned away and disappeared into the depths of the burning bakery.

Elsa ran, supported by Yeoman as she clutched her burning bracers to her chest.

They took refuge in the mouth of an alleyway between two old, stone houses. Elsa could just make out the outline of the white-stone bridge which stretched over the water and linked the palace to the town. Torchlight shone weakly at the foot of the bridge. Elsa knew that there were more torches by the palace gates, but the intensity of the storm hid them from view. A squadron of guards waited restlessly by the torches, but aside from their slight movements the bridge seemed still.

"The harbour's on the other side of town," Gudor said, breathing heavily. "We should have tried for the postern."

"We would never made it out of the castle if not for the queen's secret passage," another soldier retorted.

"I'll be scrubbing my armour for hours because of that passage," Gudor said, as he picked at a clump of flour hardened on one of his pauldrons.

The other soldier sniggered. "Bet you nearly pissed yourself going through those bricks."

"Bet _you_ nearly pissed yourself when that dog set your cloak on fire," Gudor shot back.

"Quiet," Yeoman hissed at them. "We can't use the main roads. They'll be swarming with red-cloaks as soon as they realise we made it out of the palace. I'm certain the first thing that sorceress did was have her spawn run for the guards."

"Did you see that . . . things eyes?" Elsa said.

"They were black. Stood out against the fire," Yeoman said.

"No, not the dog. That other thing. The person made of fire."

Yeoman didn't reply. He looked away and frowned as if wrestling with what Elsa had said.

"I think it was the sorceress."

Yeoman's soldier's shifted uncomfortably.

"Best not to dwell on that now," Yeoman said quietly. "It'll do us no good."

"Lord Yeoman," one of the soldiers said urgently. "A patrol is coming across the bridge. They're running."

"They must have seen the fire at the bakery," Yeoman replied. "Quickly, through the alley. Lead the way, Alex."

The last soldier with his cloak stood and led them deeper into the darkness. Elsa covered her head with her hood as she ran and tried to shrink into it. They rounded the corner, feet churning up puddles, and ducked down as the Ovelian patrol approached the alleyway.

"Shit," Alex said, rising from the other side of the alleyway. "They're coming this way!"

"Don't cross over," Yeoman said quickly, holding up his hand. "Run. Disappear."

Alex nodded and ran, quickly disappearing into the storm.

"What do we do?" Elsa asked, looking at Yeoman.

"We can't outrun them," one of the soldiers said, baring his sword blade. "They'll see us whichever way we go."

"At least we can fight these," another soldier said.

Yeoman quickly looked away from Elsa's face. His face bore the same strained look it had worn before the patrol came by. In that moment, Elsa thought Yeoman looked his age. The old man's eyes were downcast, and his mouth had twisted mournfully. Elsa's stomach suddenly dropped.

"Run, my queen," Yeoman said, gruff voice close to cracking. He grabbed her shoulder's roughly, squeezing her flesh tightly between his fingertips. "They'll kill my son if they see us with you. Make your way to the docks. It's important that you get to the docks as fast as you can, before it's too late. I'm sorry I cannot follow." He pushed her away from the alley's mouth. Elsa slipped on the slick cobblestone and fell heavily. The breath rushed from her lungs and she lay still for a moment, gasping for breath.

Shouts echoed down the alleyway from the Ovelian patrol. Elsa looked up from the ground and saw Yeoman and his soldiers holding their swords and shields at the ready. They stepped forward, blocking the Ovelian patrol's path. Soon the clash of swords combined with the rolling of thunder.

Someone screamed in pain.

Elsa scrambled to her feet, feet sliding, and ran.

Anger fueled Elsa's footsteps as they pounded against the focused on the anger, using it to push her forward and tried to ignore the other myriad of emotions threatening to hold her back.

Her cloak billowed around her body, taken by a sudden wind as she ran around a corner and emerged into a small, cobble-stoned street with wood and stone houses pressed together on either side. She could hear men behind her, shouting for her to stop.

A voice suddenly called to Elsa over the storm. Elsa looked around, and her heart jumped to her throat.

"Get inside!" a plump woman called from her doorway. Warm candlelight shone from inside. "You come inside, right now!"

Elsa dashed towards the doorway.

When she was through, the woman slammed the door and rounded on her. "Fool girl! I told you. I told you!" the woman hissed as she quickly blew out the candles. Her voice lowered, muttering so furiously Elsa had to strain her ears to hear over her heart's savage pounding.

"If those Ovelians caught sight of you, you would be hanging from a noose by morning," the woman continued her quiet tirade. Elsa raised her hand and opened her mouth to try and speak, but the woman cut her off. "Is that what you want? Do you want me to be alone? They will take you from me!"

The woman stopped suddenly as she waved the last remaining candle in front Elsa's face. Her face, rosy with anger, paled so quickly it looked like all the blood had drained from her face. "You're not my Ria," she breathed. She reached out a shaky hand and pushed back Elsa's hood.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

A flurry of activity had assaulted the courtyard by the time Aedan made his way through the palace and into the storm outside. Red-cloaked soldiers were dashing about, hastily lighting lanterns for light against the storm. Any open flame was quickly extinguished by the torrent of water flowing from the sky. Officers had to shout to be heard over the deluge, but one voice stood out above the rest from the base of the white stairs leading into the palace.

"How did she escape?" Maximilian shouted furiously as lightning shattered across the black clouds.

Maximilian was in a black rage. His voice boomed like thunder and his eyes gleaming as the lightning ravaged the sky. He clutched his sword hilt tightly, as though trying to resist the urge to draw it and strike down anything that moved. As Aedan approached he thought that if Maximilian's fury were to challenge the anger of the storm he would likely emerge victorious. Maximilian had not bothered to dress properly before leaving his bedchambers. His boots were downturned, hastily put on, and his black coat was unbuttoned down to his bare chest. The rain had plastered his hair against in head, almost turning it as black as his coat. In that moment Aedan was sure Maximilian did not care.

"It seems she was broken out," Ornsten said, flinching slightly as Maximilian turned his fury towards him. "We found her guards in the tower – both dead and stripped of their cloaks and armour. Their necks were broken. Whoever did it did not want any blood to hint at what happened."

"There were seven with Queen Elsa," Aedan said. "They came to Alexia's chambers to try and break the enchantment binding Elsa's magic – caught us unawares." His eyes flickered to Maximilian's face, searching for any sign of deepening anger. "Alexia killed three of them when the we heard the bells toll. She's chasing the others now."

"I want every soldier in this blight forsaken city in the streets looking for Elsa," Maximilian shouted. "And someone find me a Beoulve!"

"Make way!" a frantic voice drifted towards them over the storm. "King Maximilian! King Maximilian!"

"What now!" Maximilian roared.

Aedan tightened his grasp on Whisper as he stepped forward in front of Maximilian. On his left he saw Ornsten do the same.

A man dressed in a soldier's red coat skidded to a stop in front of them and put his hands on his knees as he struggled gasped for air. Blood slid down one side of his face, mixing wetly with the rain. He hunched over oddly, as if in great pain.

"Speak," Maximilian said, pushing past Ornsten and Aedan and forcing them to lower their weapons.

"My king," the soldier rasped. "Arendellian soldiers have taken the docks." He breathed deeply. "They're setting fire to our ships."

"How" Maximilian thundered.

"I don't know, sire," the soldier said. "They overpowered the watch before we could take up arms."

"How many?"

"I think five-hundred. I barely got away. Ser Amory cut a path so I could get through, but the Arendellians killed him and the others." The soldier pitched forward, falling to his knees. Aedan breathed in sharply as he saw a white-fletched arrow shaft sticking out of the soldier's back. Ornsten rushed forward and knelt beside the soldier.

"Dead," Ornsten said.

Maximilian was silent for a moment. Aedan watched his king's face twist as he fought to keep his temper under control. It had been a long time since he had seen Maximilian this angry. Maximilian breathed deeply through his nose and gestured for one of his guards to step forward.

"Fetch me my armour," Maximilian said, voice taut.

The guard saluted and dashed away.

"My king?" Lord Beoulve appeared at the white steps, similarly drenched. His eyes drifted to Aedan's bare chest and unsheathed sword. Aedan watched his mouth tighten in disapproval.

"Rouse the Fourth and Fifth," Maximilian ordered Lord Beoulve. "I want them mobilised and ready for battle in twenty minutes."

Lord Beoulve saluted and turned on his heel.

"Ornsten, take half of the Third and comb the streets for Elsa. I want men posted at every gate and rathole out of this city. I want her found! And triple the guard on Arendellian soldiers we captured. If they take up arms they'll likely drive us into the sea."

Ornsten shouldered his spear and dashed off, shouting for his horse.

"What about me?" Aedan asked, pulsing with energy.

Maximilian glanced at him – glanced at his wound. "Get yourself patched up."

"Then what?"

"Find out how a group of Arendelle soldiers were able to walk through the palace, break Elsa out of her tower and spirit her away."

"I want to fight," Aedan protested.

"Not tonight," Maximilian said. "Don't make me tell you again."

"But-"

"That's an order, Aedan!" Maximilian yelled. He snapped his fingers. "And go find Alexia and tell her that I want her here!"

Aedan scowled as he saluted his king.

"Go," Maximilian ordered.

Aedan walked back into the palace, dripping water and water mixed with blood over the marble tiles. He kicked open the door to Alexia's room and immediately placed a hand over his nose and mouth at the smell of lingering smoke and burnt flesh. The three soldiers Alexia had killed still smouldered where they fell.

Alexia was standing by the armoire, reaching behind her back to lace up her dress. She looked over her shoulder as Aedan entered.

"I take it Elsa got away," Aedan said as he tossed Whisper onto the bed.

Alexia's face was dark with anger. "They escaped down a tunnel leading into the town. I could not follow them into rain this heavy."

"Maximilian won't be happy to hear that."

"I realise," Alexia said stiffly.

"It's hardly the worst news of the night," Aedan said. "Arendellian soldiers have taken the bay and are trying to set fire to the ships. Maximilian has roused the legions to take it back. He wants you with him."

Alexia finished tying her dress. "Where is he?"

"In the courtyard, unleashing his fury against the storm."

"I best not keep him waiting." Alexia paused as she walked by and cupped Aedan's cheek in her hand. Her red eyes met his and softened.

Aedan kissed her hand. "I enjoyed your little lie to the queen."

"Lie?" Alexia's eyes sparkled and a small smile softened her lips. Aedan had a sudden image of those red eyes surrounded by fire.

"You can't lie to me," Aedan said, throwing her words from earlier that night back at her and smiling a smile that did not reach his eyes.

Alexia leaned in and kissed him hard on the mouth, biting his lip.

Aedan listened to Alexia's footsteps fade down the hallway as he pulled on his boots. His wound ached now that he was finally still. The flesh where his stitches had been cut was gaping open, but it looked like the bleeding had stopped for now. He winced as he reached around and pushed the flesh together. He picked up the bandages he and and Alexia had left on the floor earlier that night and wound them as best he could around his chest. Tying them off, he pulled on a clean shirt and looked at his armour rack.

"Fuck this."

Aedan sprang to his feet and approached the armour rack. He buckled on his leather breastplate, noting the thick stitches where the sliced leather had been sewn back together. He managed the rest of his armour easily enough. When all of the pieces were on, he buckled Whisper's scabbard to his sword belt and slipped his red-gemmed dagger into the hidden sheathe under his vambrace. He retrieved Whisper from the bed and slammed it back in its scabbard.

Maximilian was gone by the time Aedan made his way back to the courtyard. He cast his eyes around and soon spotted Ornsten's spear reflecting the flickering torchlight. He made his way over to Ornsten and fell into place beside him. Ornsten was delivering orders to twenty men, one of the patrols set to scour the city.

"What are you doing here?" Ornsten said, surprised.

"I'm coming with you."

"I thought Maximilian ordered-"

"I know what Maximilian ordered," Aedan said shortly.

"You're playing with fire, Aedan."

"I've been hearing that a lot this week."

Ornsten snorted and gave Aedan a searching look. "For your sake, I hope you're the one who brings the queen to him. It's the only thing that will keep you from a flogging - or a noose around your neck."

"For my sake, I hope so too."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Author's Note: When I was almost finished writing this chapter I realised that Yeoman seemed way too similar to Lennox. They're both older, both grumpy and both really fought to keep Elsa safe. So I gave Yeoman another priority to separate his goals from Lennox's and we saw that priority win against Elsa in this chapter. This chapter was actually half of a much bigger chapter, but because so much was happening, I thought it best to have a resting point here instead of posting a 20,000 word chapter. This chapter grew so much compared to the original plan. Alexia was supposed to recapture Elsa while the were still inside the palace.

A huge thanks to my reviewers, and I hope everyone has been enjoying this story so far.


	7. Chapter 7: Stormlight Part Two

Chapter Seven

\- Stormlight Part Two -

* * *

"You're not my Ria," the woman breathed as she raised a shaky hand and pushed back Elsa's hood.

Pushed loose, Elsa's hair fell over her face. She swept it out of the way and tried to still her heartbeat as she met the woman's scared brown eyes. The woman fell to her knees in front of her.

"Queen Elsa!" the woman exclaimed. "I'm sorry, I didn't – They let you go? No, they wouldn't – they wouldn't just let you go."

Elsa bent down in front of the woman, motioning for her to be quiet. She could still hear the soldier's shouts from outside as they searched the street. _Oh, Yeoman._ "Shh, _please_. We need to be quiet."

The woman hushed as the soldier's shouts reached her ears too. They remained still, huddling on the floor until the last shout faded into the storm.

Elsa sighed in relief and leaned against the door. She hadn't realised she'd been holding her breath. The woman gathered herself up and stood, candle shaking haphazardly in her hands.

"How . . . how did you escape," she whispered, before shaking her head. "No, I don't need to know." She turned around and set the candle on a small wooden dining table. "It's better if I don't know."

The heavy _thump_ of someone falling came from up the stairs.

"Mum!"

Elsa winced as someone stamped down the narrow staircase at the back of the room. A girl appeared at the stop of the stairs, leaning so far over the banister her blonde hair dripped a torrent of storm water onto the wooden floor. "Mum, you'll never believe it, one of those bastard Ovelian ships is on fire!"

The girl cut off, suddenly aware of Elsa. A look of utter confusion crossed her face, before her eyes widened and she clasped a hand over her mouth. The sudden movement made her rock forward, she had to grab the banister tightly to stop herself falling forward.

"Get off that rail this instant!" the plump woman said. "You'll fall and break your fool neck."

"You're the queen!" the girl jittered excitedly, ignoring her mother. "How did you escape?"

"Ria!" the woman said sternly, face reddening.

The girl rocked back and sprinted down the stairs. The noise made Elsa wince.

"You _are_ the queen, aren't you?" the girl asked, stopping in front of Elsa.

_She looks like Anna_, Elsa thought, as she took in the girl's appearance. Her hair was dark with water, but Anna's would have been darker. She was a pretty girl, with big eyes and a splattering of small freckles across her nose. Tall too, almost taller than Elsa. The girl was dressed in a pair of tight breeches, with leather boots laced up to her knees. She wore a flowing blue shirt, laced up tightly, but with the sleeves rolled back past her wrists. _Boys clothes. _Elsa also spied the hilt of a small knife sticking out of the girl's waistband.

"I am," Elsa said.

The girl spasmed with joy. "I knew it!"

"Shh, Ria," the plump woman said sternly. "Do you want to bring soldiers down on us?"

Ria clamped a hand over her mouth.

"What have I told you about going out at night?" The woman said, rounding on her daughter. "You're dripping water everywhere! You'll be scrubbing the floors all day tomorrow, you hear."

"It's okay, mum. No one saw me. I was careful!"

"On a night like tonight." The woman shook her head and placed her fists on her hips. "And don't think I haven't noticed how you're dressed, Ria."

"I'm getting water everywhere too," Elsa said, looking down at the growing puddle around her bare feet. _That was a very awkward Anna thing to say._

"You're all right, dear." the woman said kindly.

"Mum, you can't call the queen, 'dear'," Ria said, appalled.

The woman placed a hand over her mouth and her eyes widened in a look so much like her daughter, Elsa could have laughed.

"It's okay, really," Elsa said. She looked Ria, who was shaking her wet head in disgust at her mother's slip of the tongue. "What did you say about a burning ship?"

"I almost forgot," Ria said, slapping her forehead. "One of the Ovelian ships is on fire. You can see it from the roof."

"On fire?" Ria's mother repeated. "Please don't tell me it was you and those boys you've been running around with. Maximilian will hang you by your skinny necks!"

"It wasn't us, Mum," Ria protested. "And I'm not the only girl!"

"She never used to be like this," Ria's mother told Elsa. "She used to love wearing dresses and doing her hair. Now she loves breeches and running across the rooftops at night." She rounded on her daughter. "You'll be the death of me one day!"

"Please show me the ship," Elsa said.

Ria nodded enthusiastically and raced up the staircase. Elsa followed more slowly, but just as eagerly. The staircase opened into a narrow hallways, with a room on either side. Ria took Elsa into the room on the right, which Elsa assumed was Ria's bedroom. A cloak the same dark blue as the one Elsa was wearing dripped water onto the floor. Ria scooped it up as she dashed by and shrugged into it.

"We have to go through the window," she said, pointing at a small window only just large enough for someone slight to climb through. A discarded dress had been thrown across the small bed Elsa was sure Ria had outgrown.

Cold wind burst into the bedroom as Ria pushed open the window. She used a stool to push herself up and soon she was wriggling through the window.

Elsa stood on the stool and followed.

The tiles on the roof were slick. Elsa rose cautiously and followed Ria up to the very top of the roof.

"See, over there." Ria said, pointing.

She needn't have bothered. Even through the storm, Elsa could see the orange flames burning furiously in the distance. It didn't matter how hard the storm's fury battered against the fire, it did not seem to be dying down. Elsa looked away from the fire at the docks and cast her eyes around until she saw another fire burning weakly nearby.

Red eyes flashed in front of Elsa's vision. Blood rushed to her head and her stomach lurched as she felt herself falling backwards.

Ria grabbed Elsa's arm. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Elsa said, blinking rapidly.

"You nearly fell."

"I'm okay."

The storm was rapidly extinguishing the fire at the bakery. She could just see a handful of red-cloaked soldiers rushing around the fires. She shielded her eyes from the rain and tried to find the patrol that had chased her. _They can't have gone far_, she thought, frowning. _Maybe the fire at the docks has distracted them. _As soon as she thought it, she dismissed it with a small shudder. _I'm more valuable to them than a single ship._

"Let's go back inside," Elsa said.

Ria helped Elsa back through the window and closed it securely behind them. Ria's mother was waiting inside the bedroom holding the candle for light.

"I thank you for concealing me," Elsa told the woman gratefully. "What is your name?"

"Mary, Your Highness," the woman said.

"And I'm Ria," Ria chimed in brightly.

"I can't stay here," Elsa said. "If the Ovelians find me here, they'll take you too."

"Where will you go?" Mary asked, biting her lip.

"I need to get to the bay," Elsa said. _As fast as I can._

"Can't you just use your magic?" Ria asked.

Her words punched Elsa hard in the stomach. "I can't..."

"Why?"

"Ria!" Mary said, scandalised. "I'm sorry about her, Queen Elsa."

Ria suddenly snapped her fingers together. "I can take you to Noel," she said thoughtfully. "He can help you escape!"

"Who's Noel?" Elsa asked.

"Who's Noel?" Ria's mother's face went even redder.

Ria ignored her mother and said to Elsa. "Noel's been leading us ever since the Ovelians came. He showed us a bunch of secret paths beneath the town, and even took us into the old mines once. He knows Arendelle better than anyone I've ever met."

"Leading you?" Elsa raised an eyebrow.

"We play tricks on the Ovelians," Ria said enthusiastically.

"Tricks?"

Ria's mother shook her head.

"Mm-hmm." Ria nodded. "The other night we rolled three barrels full of manure down a hill, right into one of their patrols. It smelt so bad, but you should have seen those red bastards run!"

"Language, Ria!" Ria's mother exclaimed. "You're speaking to your queen!"

"Sorry," Ria said, looking down.

Elsa replied, "Do you really think this Noel can help?"

"He doesn't like the Ovelians much," Ria said. "He thinks they're scum. I'm sure he'll do whatever he can to keep you away from them."

"Can you tell me where he is?"

Ria chewed her lip. "Yeah, but . . . I don't think using the streets is a good idea."

_Agreed. _"Then how?"

"I'll have take you across the roofs."

"Ria, no!" For the first time that night, Mary didn't sound angry with her daughter. Fear crippled Mary's voice, making her seem much smaller than she was.

"Mum, I gotta," Ria said. "I can show her the best way across the roofs. The Ovelians will never see us, I promise. Da would want us to help her, you know he would!"

Ria's mother lowered the candle and nodded hesitantly.

Ria leapt up.

"You be careful," Ria's mother said sternly. "And be safe!" She turned to Elsa, face twisted with concern. "You too, Your Majesty."

"Thank you," Elsa said. _I won't forget this._

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Five minutes out in the raw fury of the storm had Aedan wishing that his coat had a hood to protect him from the deluge pouring from the sky. It had been raging for hours now and still showed no sign of ceasing. His horse didn't like the rain either, but Roach didn't like trending in puddles if he could avoid it. He had stamped, blowing his nose in protest, and pulled away when Aedan tried to lead it out of the warm stables and into the storm.

The burning ship was a beacon in the distance. Aedan stared at it as the patrol walked over the bridge leading into town. The fire was much bigger than Aedan had imagined it being. _Especially with all this rain._ But he was more concerned about the five-hundred Arendellian soldiers who had somehow managed remain hidden despite Matrim's vigorous patrols. _I suppose the storm is the only thing stopping them from setting fire to every ship in the bay._

Ornsten led the patrol east after they crossed the bridge, towards the smouldering ruin of a bakery. A smaller patrol, Aedan counted twelve men, were using buckets of rainwater to try and put out the worst of the flames. The rain took care of the rest.

Ornsten raised his fist. "Hold."

Aedan swung Roach around and dismounted, handing the reins to one of the soldiers. His wound twinged with pain as he stepped down.

"Who's leading this patrol?" Aedan asked one of the soldier's carrying a bucket.

"Ser Oakley," the soldier said quickly, avoiding Aedan's eyes.

"Where is he?"

"He went inside." The soldier hurried away.

Aedan looked at Ornsten and rolled his eyes.

The fire had taken most of the bakery's roof. What remained was scorched black. Even with the rain dampening the smell, the whole building stunk of smoke. Ser Oakley was inside the kitchens, where the slabs of stone and brick remained untouched by fire. He wore the same red cloak as Aedan and Ornsten, but his cloak had a gleaming golden chevron pinned to the front.

Ser Oakley grinned as he saw them approach. "Ser Ornsten," he said heartily. "And our beloved Champion, back from death."

"The soldiers look miserable," Aedan said, after they greeted Ser Oakley.

"Give it an hour and you'll feel miserable too. We've been out since before midnight and it's rained the whole cursed time."

Ornsten murmered some sympathy before asking, "What happened to this place?"

Oakley shrugged. "I thought it might have been squirrel work, but the little shits haven't shown any interest in starting fires. And unless the owners of this establishment were selling us bread, I can't think why squirrels would even touch this place." Oakley sighed. "When we arrived, one of the men spotted someone at the corner of the alley further up the street. We pursued and found three Arendellian knights waiting for us. They fought like demons."

"Any casualties?" Ornsten asked.

"They killed five before we were about to overwhelm them. Fucking choke-point. I sent a third of the patrol around to take them from behind."

Aedan frowned. "Three knights?"

"Yep, and another reason why those soldiers out there are miserable."

"Were you able to capture any?"

Oakley was already shaking his head. "They're all dead. Wouldn't stop fighting until they had swords through their chests."

"Where?" Ornsten asked.

"They're still in the alley," Oakley said. "I didn't think they deserved to be moved out of the rain."

"Show me."

"It's not a pretty sight," Oakley warned. When Ornsten didn't reply, he shrugged.

"Coming, Aedan?" Ornsten asked as he followed Oakley out of the kitchens.

"In a moment," Aedan replied.

"Have a look in the basement," Ser Oakley said. "I sent a man down there with a lantern."

A single lantern cast its small light down in the basement. Sacks of flour were piled neatly against the walls, and the room was littered with the white powder. Aedan's foot kicked a half empty sack, sending a puff of flour into the air. The soldier Oakley had sent down was using the lantern to peer through a large hole in the back wall. Broken bricks and pieces of mortar were scattered across the floor. The soldier looked back as Aedan approached.

"Did you go inside?" Aedan asked.

"A ways," the soldier replied. "I turned back when the path forked. There's sand everywhere. I think it goes under the bay."

"You're probably right."

"Ser, look at this." The soldier knelt down and shined the lantern on a charcoal paw-print staining the stone. "They go up the stairs and are all through the passageway."

_That'll be Alexia's dog, _Aedan thought, brushing away a note of unease. _This must be the passage Alexia followed Elsa and her men through._

"What do you think happened?" the soldier asked.

"This was sorcery." Aedan said pointing at the pawprint. _As for everything else..._

"There's more over here," the soldier said and shined the lantern on a human footprint that had scorched the floor black. Aedan's stomach lurched as he thought of the fire consuming Alexia's body, how her hair had billowed out behind her and how her eyes gleamed with rage.

"Aedan!" Ornsten said loudly from upstairs. "Come see this."

Aedan straightened and looked away from Alexia's scorched footprint. It was almost a relief when he climbed the stairs and went back outside into the rain.

"I'm sure fire was Alexia's doing," Aedan said as he walked towards Ornsten. "She mentioned chasing Elsa through a secret passage under the bay. They must have escaped into the storm. Alexia's scary, but in rain this bad she's..." He looked down at the bodies of the three Arendellian knights. "Oh."

Alexia's dreaded rain had washed away most of the blood on Lord Yeoman's breastplate, revealing the thick puncture wound where someone had driven a spear through his chest. His face was so pale and untouched by blood it almost seemed like he was sleeping. The other knights had not faired so well. A sword blade had split one's skull in two, and the other had a large, gaping hole in the centre of his throat.

"There was no one else with them?" Aedan asked Ser Oakley.

"Just them," the knight replied.

"It seems we have two missing," Aedan said to Ornsten.

"Perhaps he sent Elsa with his most trusted soldier while he and the others held the patrol."

"Max won't be pleased he's dead."

"No."

"What's going on?" Ser Oakley asked. "We can hear the bells from the palace."

"Queen Elsa escaped," Aedan said. "You and your men just killed some of the men who broke her out."

Ser Oakley's mouth gaped.

"Take the bodies to the palace," Ornsten said. "King Maximilian will want to see them when he returns."

Ser Oakley saluted and began gathering his men.

"Elsa can't be far," Aedan said to Ornsten as they walked back to their horses.

"There are hundreds of places she could hide," Ornsten said. "With Yeoman dead we have no idea how he planned to escape the city."

"If you were going to steal the queen away, what would you do?" Aedan asked.

Ornsten shrugged. "I'd try to get to the bay as fast as I could, before Max gathers his soldiers to take it back."

"Do you think Yeoman organised the attack?"

"It's too big a coincidence to think otherwise."

"I agree," Aedan said as he climbed back onto Roach's back. _Elsa could be sailing away right now if it wasn't for Alexia. _"We need to send a runner to Max, let him know what happened here and that he might have a queen coming his way."

"Something doesn't feel right, Aedan," Ornsten said.

"Nothing ever feels right."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Elsa squeezed through Ria's bedroom window and once again crouched on the slick tiles. Ria held onto a rusty weather vane and poked her head over the side of the house. Elsa watched the girl's head move left, then right, before Ria used the weather vane to pull herself back to safety.

"It looked like its clear," Ria said in Elsa's ear. "I can't see any soldiers." She raised her hand and pointed. "We need to get to that building over there. It's called the Bold Man's Inn."

Elsa followed Ria's finger towards a building with a steep roof and a small steeple rising from the eastern side. "It doesn't seem too far away," Elsa said.

"It's not, not really," Ria said. "We have to move slowly because of the rain." She scrambled up to the very top of her roof, using her arms to pull herself forward. She slithered along the rooftop until she came to the short gap between her roof and the next house's. Elsa followed more slowly, holding on tightly as the rain threatened to slip her and make her fall into the street.

Ria looked around quickly, before standing and taking a long step onto the next roof. She held out her hand for Elsa.

Elsa approached the edge of the roof and felt her stomach lurch as she looked down.

"It's easier if you don't look," Ria said.

Elsa took Ria's outstretched hand stepped across the gap. For a moment, nothing lay between Elsa and the cobblestones below. A smile broke out on her face.

Ria dropped back to a crouch and slid across the roof, waving her hand for Elsa to follow.

"How old are you, Ria?" Elsa asked as they lay flat on their bellies on one of the rooftops. Ria had spotted an Ovelian soldier sprinting through the streets, heading towards the palace. If they had been using the streets he would have run right into them

"Fourteen," Ria replied.

"You remind me of my sister."

Ria's big eyes widened. "Of Princess Anna?"

Elsa nodded and smiled.

"Wow," Ria said. She touched her hair. "My hair is just like her's, you know. It's only this blonde because Jorm poured lemon juice through it a few weeks ago."

"It's pretty," Elsa said kindly.

Ria grinned widely as she looked up. "Looks like that soldier ran past."

They crossed three more rooftops, getting closer and closer to the building with the steeple. Ria stopped at the edge of the last roof before the steeple and swore.

"What is it?" Elsa asked.

Ria looked over her shoulder and smiled weakly. "The ladder's on the other side."

"Ladder?"

"We use it to help us cross over. I left it on this side when I came back home, but someone must have crossed back over."

"Is there another way?" Elsa asked.

"There is, but..." Ria shook her head. "We'd have to go all the way back around to the other side. I didn't think anyone would come back this way."

Elsa's heart sank.

"I'll jump and swing the ladder over to you," Ria said. She stood and placed her foot on the edge on the roof.

"No, don't!" Elsa said.

"I've done it before. It's not as far as it seems," Ria said. "When I move the ladder over, slide it into that little hook here. It'll stop it from moving when you cross over."

Before Elsa could say anything else, Ria breathed deeply and launched herself into the open gap between the inn and the roof they were on. She hit the other side heavily, hands and feet scrambling for purchase on the slick tiles.

Elsa's hand flew to her mouth as Ria slipped towards the street below.

Suddenly, Ria grabbed onto something firm, halting her descent. Her legs dangled uselessly towards the ground. She hung there for a moment or two, before she gripped her handhold with both hands and pulled herself onto the roof.

When she was safely crouching, she raised her thumb at Elsa and grinned. She moved up to the flat part of the roof and pushed a thin wooden ladder across the gap. Elsa grabbed the end of the ladder and made sure the first rung was firmly wedged against the small metal hook Ria had pointed out.

Ria waved for Elsa to cross over.

Heart in her throat, Elsa went to her knees and crawled across the ladder. The wood was slick with water and groaned when Elsa put her weight on it - especially when she reached the middle.

"Almost there," Ria said encouragingly.

When Elsa was safely on the other side, Ria pulled the ladder back across the gap and left it on top of the roof's steep slope. From there it was easy to balance and make their way towards the steeple. The steeple was made of brick, with long, narrow gaps at regular intervals exposing the brass bell inside. Ria squeezed herself through one of those gaps and Elsa followed.

The incessant rain pounded against the steeple, filling Elsa ears with the sound of splattering water. Brick surrounded them on all sides, but the floor was wooden and flooding with rainwater. Ria knelt down and fished her hands in the large puddles before clenching her teeth and wrenching a trapdoor up. Water gushed down the opening and into the darkened room below.

"It goes into a storage room," Ria said. "There's a ladder you can use to help you, but the drop isn't that bad if you want to just fall. I'll come down after you."

"I think I'll use the ladder. Thank you for doing this," Elsa said. "I owe you and your mother more than I can hope to repay."

Ria grinned widely. Elsa was sure the girl was blushing.

"Naw, it's fine," Ria said.

"You were very brave, jumping across the gap like that."

"Ma would skin me raw if she found out."

"I promise not to tell."

"Thanks."

Elsa lowered herself through the trapdoor, feet searching for the ladder's rungs. She found them quickly and climbed down into the blackness. Ria followed quickly, closing the trapdoor behind her.

A lantern suddenly flared into life, illuminating stacks of wooden crates and furniture. The boxes were piled high, almost to the rafters. It looked like boxes had been haphazardly moved to create the narrow path leading towards the trapdoor.

A tall, red-haired boy about Ria's age gaped at them as he shined the lantern in their faces.

"Put that down, Jorm," Ria said sternly, placing her fists on her hips. She looked like a tall, skinny version of her mother.

"You're not s'posed to be here this late," Jorm said. "You're not s'posed to bring anyone here, either."

"What are you doing here, then," Ria asked, advancing on the boy. She suddenly drew herself to full height. "You're the one who moved the ladder, weren't you?"

"I-"

"I had to _jump_ across the gap, Jorm! If I fell and broke my neck, how would you feel?"

Jorm's cheeks went scarlet. "It's not _my_-"

"Where's Noel." Ria cut across him. "Is he here?"

"He just got back, but-"

"Go get him. I'll be waiting."

Jorm just stared at her.

"What are you waiting for?" Ria snapped. "And leave the lantern. You don't want us to be stuck in the dark, do you?"

Jorm quickly placed the lantern on top of a crate and dashed through a wide doorway leading deeper into the inn.

"Sometimes you have to bully them," Ria said knowledgeably to Elsa. "'Take them in a firm hand', that's what Mum says."

"I . . . see," Elsa said.

Ria picked up the lantern Jorm had abandoned. "This is where we meet, us squirrels," Ria said, shining the light around the piles of crates. A round table surrounded by stools filled the only open space in the room. Ria put the lantern on the table and sat down on one of the stools.

"You're hurt," Elsa said suddenly. A long tear had ripped its way through Ria's breeches, exposing bleeding skin. Blood stained the girl's sleeves and hands too.

"It's not as bad as it looks." Ria shrugged. "I hit those roof tiles pretty hard. Bloody Jorm. That kid's never where he's _supposed_ to be."

"Let me see," Elsa demanded. She took Ria's hands and rolled back the girl's sleeves. Scratches from the roof tiles lined Ria's slim forearms and some of the skin had been taken off from when she had slipped down.

"It's fine, really." Ria's ears went red and she squirmed with embarrassment.

Footsteps.

Elsa stepped away from the door as the most handsome man Elsa had ever seen walked inside the storage room. Little Jorm slunk in behind, pointedly ignoring Ria's glares.

"Hi, Noel." Ria jumped to her feet and grinned at the man. "You'll never guess who-"

"Queen Elsa," Noel said.

Noel's brown eyes glimmered with warmth as he took in Elsa's dishevelled appearance. She thought that Noel had a jaw chiselled from every handsome hero in the old stories. He was broad-shouldered and muscled, but somehow still as lithe as a blade. He took her hand and kissed it gently. Elsa felt the foolish flutter of butterfly wings in her stomach. She imagined herself twirling Noel's thick brown curls with her finger, before something about the man's voice brought her back to her senses.

"You're Coronan," Elsa said, surprised. "I recognise your accent."

"That's right," Noel smiled. "You have a good ear."

"How did you get into the city? If the Ovelians heard you, they'd have you thrown in a cell."

"Or killed, more likely," Noel said. "Fortunately, I was here before these dread Ovelians arrived on your beautiful shores."

"Before?" Elsa asked.

"When the news came that Queen Elsa of Arendelle was a sorceress, many people were curious – and cautious. Arendelle is a small kingdom and very far away, but even small kingdoms can rise if they are led by a determined ruler. And when that ruler happens to have magic. . ." Noel let his words hang for a moment. "My King and Queen decided that it was important to be discreet, so they sent me to watch you – to see what kind of ruler you turned out to be."

"You're a spy," Elsa said, eyes narrowing.

"Yes, I am."

"I didn't think such distrust ran between our kingdoms," Elsa said.

"Respectfully, my King and Queen knew your parents. They don't know you, and they didn't know what you were capable of. I saw the storm you hurtled against the Ovelians when they came. Were it not for their sorceress's enchanted flames, they would all be dead. If you marched south with an army, with a storm like the one you threw against the Ovelians clearing your path, any army Corona raised to stop you would be swept aside."

"I don't have any desire to conquer Corona," Elsa protested, taken aback. "I don't want to conquer anywhere!"

"That's what I told my King and Queen. I had that figured out before the end of my first month here. I'm quite sure Maximilian's spies told him the same."

Noel smiled and looked between Elsa and Ria. "I assume Ria told you about me."

"She never told me you were a spy," Elsa said.

"She didn't know I was a spy."

Ria stared wide-eyed between Noel and Elsa. "I told her you help us play tricks on the Ovelians."

"My little group of saboteurs," Noel said affectionately. "They've performed remarkably." He looked at Elsa's hands. "May I see?"

Elsa hesitated, before pushing up her sleeves to expose the golden bracers. Whatever fierce heat they had burned with had long-since stopped. Noel turned her wrists tenderly, frowning at the seamless gold and the blossoming purple bruises from where Elsa had tried to force her wrists out.

"I hoped this wasn't true," he said. "I'm curious about how you managed to escape the palace with your magic sealed."

"One of my lords freed me from the tower," Elsa said.

"Where is this lord? I'd be interested to speak with him."

"I . . . I don't know. We were separated."

"He picked an interesting night to act. What was his plan? How did he plan to escape the city?"

"He said he had a boat waiting outside the bay."

"In a storm like this?"

Elsa faltered. "I'm not sure he anticipated the storm."

"Perhaps not," Noel said. "But I wonder if he anticipated Arendellian soldiers to seize control of the bay."

"What?!" Ria and Jorm exclaimed in unison.

"I counted close to five hundred – the storm made it difficult to get an accurate number," Noel said. "They were barricading the entrances and igniting the Ovelian ships when I left."

"He told me before we were separated that I needed to get to the docks as fast as I could," Elsa breathed.

"Then we must assume that he was aware of the attack," Noel said. "It seems too much a coincidence that those soldier's seized the docks on the same night you were to flee captivity."

"We should help her get to the soldiers!" Ria said eagerly.

Noel shook his head.

Elsa immediately knew that Noel was right. _It's too late. I've taken too long._

"Why not?" Ria asked, enthusiasm faltering.

Noel looked at Elsa.

"By now Maximilian would have roused his legions," Elsa said. Noel nodded in approval.

"Two thousand Ovelian soldiers are marching on the bay as we speak," Noel said. "Arendellian soldiers are valiant fighters, and they might be able to hold off the Ovelians for an hour, perhaps two, but the Ovelians will break their lines and drive them into the sea."

"Then what can we do?"

"We might not be able to escape to the docks, but the battle there will provide a distraction. We should be able to escape through the Western Gate and flee into the woods before the Ovelians are any wiser."

"Isn't the Western Gate guarded?"

"By a skeleton force, easily overpowered."

Ria clasped her hand over her mouth in excitement. Noel flashed a white-toothed grin at her.

"What about the rest of the army? Aren't they camped on the outskirts of the forest?"

"The First and Second legions are keeping peace in the countryside. In truth they're ensuring that your lords don't combine their soldiers and march on the city. Maximilian took two legions with him to take back the harbour. We don't have to worry about them until the battle is done. As for the Fifth legion, they are busy guarding the soldiers captured during the siege. Maximilian would not want those men roused and joining their comrades at the docks. They'll be watching captives, not the forest."

"Queen Elsa." Noel took her hands in his again. "I would love nothing better than to help you escape Maximilian's red hands. I will see you out of this city and take you to my King and Queen in Corona. I swear."

His enthusiasm was infectious. Elsa felt a stupid smile growing on her face, but she shook it away and said, "But how are you going to overpower the guard at the gate without any men? Without my magic, I'm useless. I can't help you."

"Let me show you."

Noel led Elsa out of the storage room and through the darkened inn. He held the lantern in front of him to guide his way. Ria and Jorm followed, arguing in fierce whispers. The inn was deathly still. "The owners are kind enough to turn a blind eye to me and the squirrels as we come and go," Noel said quietly. "They're good people." He laughed. "They hate serving the Ovelians drinks, but they can hardly refuse."

"Are Ovelians here often?"

"Every night," Noel said. "They don't cause any trouble. Maximilian has been hanging the ones that do."

Noel stopped outside of a thick, oaken door leading into the cellar. He grinned at Elsa, before raising his fist and knocking. "It's Noel," he said, loud enough to be heard from the other side.

"You're not getting any more of that whiskey," a hard voice came from the other side. "Madam says you haven't paid for the last quart you drank."

"I'm not here for drink," Noel said.

The cellar door opened smoothly. A large man with his shirt-sleeves rolled up filled the doorway. A thick moustache curled over his upper lip, and the rest of his face with covered in thick stubble. "Then what do you want?"

Behind him, more than two dozen men lounged about the cellar. Some were playing cards on a round table just like the one from upstairs, others were sitting on the floor, polishing their weapons and armour, or mending tears in their blue-green coats. The rest were wrapped up in their coats and sleeping on the wooden floors.

Noel edged to the the side and looked at Elsa. "Take off your hood," he said.

The man's grey eyes moved curiously from Noel to Elsa. He peered into the depths of her hood before his eyes widened and he fell to one knee in front of her. "Queen Elsa," he breathed. "You're free."

Elsa reached up and pushed her blue hood back. Her damp hair shone in the soft candlelight.

One of the men playing cards looked curiously at the door. His mouth gaped open and he stood up so fast he nearly upended the table.

"Watch it!" one of the men he was playing with said in annoyance. He followed the other man's eyes and his mouth fell open too. He dropped to his knee and kneeled.

One by one, the soldiers saw Elsa by the door. The ones sleeping were kicked awake, until they were all kneeling in front of her.

Fierce hope flared in Elsa's chest. _Maybe everything will be okay._

"I don't have any soldiers, Elsa," Noel said. "But you do."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Noel stayed by Elsa's side as they followed the Arendellian soldiers through the town towards the Western Gate. He had donned an Ovelian soldier's red cloak, which he had buttoned to his neck. Stealing a cloak had been easy, he explained to her, but he hadn't been able to get his hands on a set of Ovelian armour.

The Arendellian soldiers had dressed quickly, donning their armour and blue cloaks. They had readily accepted Noel's plan of taking the Western Gate. Elsa thought they even seemed excited.

"Some of us have been in that cellar since the city was taken," the first soldier to kneel had told her while his comrades readied themselves. "The Ovelians tied you to a horse and threatened to cut you in half if we didn't lay down out arms. One of the most monstrous men I've ever seen walked beside you, holding a giant, bloody cleaver the size of a claymore. He wanted nothing more than to kill you. I thought hiding with the hope of being able to do something to help was better than surrendering."

The Arendellian soldiers stopped briefly and waited for a large Ovelian patrol lead by two men on horseback to walk by. Some of the Ovelians held long poles with lanterns hanging from the top to light their way. When the patrol disappeared around a corner, the Arendellians kept moving.

"Be wary of that patrol coming back," Noel warned.

The Arendellian soldier with the thick moustache nodded in agreement and sent a soldier to tail the patrol. "Keep your distance," he said. "Follow them for ten minutes, then make your way to the gate. If they turn back this way, then run your arse off."

The soldier saluted before disappearing into the night.

The made their way up a long, slippery hill paved with wet stones. Noel leaned in close to Elsa and said, "This is the hill where my squirrels rolled those barrels of manure at an Ovelian patrol."

Elsa smiled tightly. "Were you there with them?"

"No." Noel shook his head. "I used the distraction to send a dove south with a message. The Ovelians have been shooting down any white bird they see." He smiled back at her. "You'll adore, Corona, Your Majesty."

"Oh?"

"Every year during the summer months, the people light paper lanterns and release them into the sky. They shine like the stars, Elsa. It's very beautiful."

"The lanterns were for the lost princess, weren't they?"

"Lost, but now found. Now every year the people light the lanterns to celebrate the princess's return."

"I would like to see it one day."

"You will," Noel said certainly, touching Elsa's cheek.

"Perhaps you can tell me more about Corona on the journey south?"

"I would enjoy that, Your Majesty."

They stopped the shadow of a building around the corner from the Western Gate. "The soldiers will all be inside the gatehouse," Noel said, just loud enough to be heard over the storm.

"How many?" the soldier with the moustache asked.

"Perhaps a dozen," Noel replied. "I doubt there will be more than that. I'll kill the first and draw out the others. Attack when they come for me. Hopefully we can overwhelm them before they do anything tricky." He looked at the two Arendellian soldier's set to guard Elsa. "Protect her with your lives," Noel said. "If she falls, or is recaptured then everything we've done tonight will be for nothing."

"Be careful, Noel," Elsa said.

The Coronan smiled his most winning smile and Elsa felt those butterflies stir again.

"Your concern warms my heart," he said as he took her hand and kissed it. Elsa heard grumbling from some of the Arendellian soldiers.

"Stay close to me, My Queen," the Arendellian soldier with the thick moustache said.

Elsa nodded.

She watched Noel hunch into his coat and hurry towards the Western Gate. He raised his fist and hammered on the guardhouse door.

"Who goes?" an Ovelian called out to Noel.

"I've a message from Lord Matrim!" Noel snapped in a thick Ovelian accent. "Open up – this rain's sliding down my arse."

The Ovelian laughed and Elsa saw a light appear at the guardhouse door as a soldier pulled it open. "What does Lord Matrim want?"

Noel stepped forward and plunged a knife through the Ovelian's throat. Shouts of alarm rose through the guardhouse as Noel tossed the dead soldier out into the rain.

The Arendellian soldiers around Elsa rose to their feet and dashed towards the gatehouse. Noel flung away his red Ovelian cloak and drew his sword.

"Come, you bastards," Noel yelled.

Elsa gasped as one of the Ovelians pulled his sword from his scabbard and aimed a heavy chop at Noel's head.

Noel sidestepped the blow and countered swiftly.

The Ovelian fell back, blood streaming from his head.

"Close the door," an Ovelian from inside yelled. "Keep them out!"

The Arendellian soldiers fell upon them.

A large Arendellian soldier carrying a thick, wooden shield with the Arendelle crest painted on it charged into the gatehouse, using the shield to batter away sword-thrusts and slashes. The rest of the soldiers poured in behind him. Noel went in afterwards.

Furious shouts and cries of pain mixed with the crack of thunder and the howling wind, forming a terrible symphony. The two soldier's guarding Elsa shifted uncomfortably, and moved their weapons in their scabbards, as though eager to join their comrades in the fighting.

Elsa squeezed her hands into fists. _If only I had my magic..._

Noel burst from the guardhouse, quickly followed by a handful of Arendelle's soldiers. They looked up at the wall, before Noel pointed quickly and cried out, "Look, there!"

An Ovelian soldier was running along the top of the wall. Suddenly, he turned and leapt out into open air. He handed heavily onto a tiled roof.

"Shoot him down," Noel shouted.

The Ovelian turned on his back and slid off of the roof, landing on a patch of grassy cobblestones on all fours. He shook his head, as if dazed, before turning and sprinting down the hill. His feet kicked up rainwater and slipped with every step, but the soldier did not halt his headlong pace.

"Shoot him," Noel shouted again.

One of the Arendellian soldiers drew an arrow from his quiver and levelled his bow at the Ovelian. The storm took the soldier's arrow as he loosed it after the Ovelian, forcing the arrow over the soldier's head.

The Arendellian with the bow swore and shot another arrow after the Ovelian. The storm dashed it on the ground next to the Ovelians feet.

It only spurred the Ovelian's footsteps as he vanished into the darkness.

"He'll bring that patrol down on us," Noel swore. He turned to the Ovelian soldiers who had followed him outside. "Clear out that guardhouse and get that portcullis open. I mean to be in those woods before they arrive."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

"Wait. Please wait!"

"Ser Ornsten," one of the soldier's holding a lantern said. "Someone's chasing us."

Ornsten held up his fist, bringing the patrol to a halt. Aedan pulled Roach around and watched a skinny soldier sprint towards them. Blood stained the soldier's face. As soon as skidded to a stop in front of Ornsten, he collapsed to his knees, breathing heavily. It reminded Aedan so much of the messenger from earlier he half-heartedly looked for an arrow sticking out of the man's back.

"Ser," the young soldier panted. "The Western Gate is under attack!"

"How many?" Ornsten swung down from his horse and knelt beside the soldier.

"Twenty, maybe more," the soldier said, gasping. "I think there's a Coronan with them. I heard the accent."

_What would a Coronan be doing attacking the Western Gate?_ Aedan breathed sharply and looked at Ornsten. Ornsten's brow was furrowed in a deep frown. He met Aedan's eyes and Aedan knew he had made the same connection.

Excitement filled Aedan's chest.

"To the gate!" Ornsten shouted, raising his spear high.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Elsa's legs shook as she walked out from under the shadow of the building the Ovelian soldier had jumped on to. The soldiers guarding her flanked her on either side, swords and shields at the ready in case a red-cloaked soldier came her way. Elsa didn't think that was going to happen. Pained shouts and the clash of swords still burst from the guardhouse.

When the fighting finally died down, Noel came out of the guardhouse and wiped his bloody sword blade on the red coat he had discarded earlier. The Arendellian soldiers followed him out, cleaning their sword blades, or tending to wounds.

"They jammed the mechanism with an axe," Noel told Elsa. "Some of the men are working on getting it free, but it could take a a little time."

"We don't have time," Elsa said.

"Don't I know it," Noel replied. He raised his chin and looked down the hill.

Elsa followed his eyes and her heart sank.

The Ovelian patrol they had hid from earlier was coming up the hill with their weapons were drawn and shields unhooked.

Noel gritted his teeth. "Protect your queen!"

"Archers," the moustached Arendellian shouted.

The soldiers with bows stepped forward, fitted arrows to their bowstrings and pulled the fletching to their cheeks. The rest of the soldiers shouldered their shields and formed a wall between the approaching Ovelians and the portcullis.

"Loose!"

The archers released their arrows. Elsa watched them fly into the Ovelian ranks, thudding and splitting against shields. The storm lifted one of the arrows, turning its path. It slipped between two shields and slammed into a shoulder.

"That won't do," Noel said under his breath.

The portcullis stirred and began to rise.

The archers loosed another volley at the Ovelians, but this time all of the arrows were caught on their raised shields. Elsa could hear the Ovelian commander shouting orders over the storm.

The Ovelians quickened their step.

Elsa winced as Ovelian shields smashed against the Arendellian line. Spears rose and stabbed downwards, seeking any unprotected flesh. An Arendellian soldier pitched forward, mouth bubbling with blood as an Ovelian pulled away his blood-slick spear.

"Faster," Noel whispered urgently. He was staring at the portcullis as it rose inch by painfully-slow inch.

One of the Ovelians on horseback spun his horse around and used his spear to carve a hole in the Arendellian line. Red cloaks forced themselves through.

"Quickly, Elsa." Noel grabbed Elsa's arm and pulled her down. "Crawl under."

Elsa didn't protest. She flung herself to the ground and wriggled under the spikes. She could feel the sharp metal prick her clothing and catching on. She pulled loose and heard her cloak tear. Noel was right behind her. He rolled under the portcullis and clambered to his feet.

He took her hand in his. "We can lose them in the woods," he shouted.

Elsa didn't hear him. Blood pounded in her ears. All the excitement and adrenaline and mind-numbing fear from the night burst through her legs, granting her more energy than she ever thought she had. She could see the dark outline of the forest in the distance. It was clouded by the fierce rain, but to Elsa it shone like a beacon.

Arendellian soldiers ducked under the portcullis, retreating to where they had more room to fight. The Ovelians followed, using their shields and spears as cover to ward away any Arendellian soldiers who tried to take advantage.

"Drop the portcullis!" Elsa heard Noel scream over his shoulder. "Don't let them come through."

The storm swept his words towards the woods and the portcullis continued to rise.

One of the Ovelians on horseback dismounted and led his horse under the rising portcullis. The red-cloaked soldiers forced the Arendellians away, so their jabbing weapons couldn't touch him.

"Keep running," Noel yelled.

The Ovelian broke through the Arendellian line, swung back onto his horse and galloped after Elsa and Noel.

"Hide in the forest," Noel said as he slowed to a stop and turned to face the approaching Ovelian. "I'll come find you."

Elsa nodded and kept running.

The wind swept up the steady sound of hoof-beats and pushed them towards her. She looked over her shoulder and saw Noel raised his sword, putting himself between Elsa and the Ovelian. The Ovelian jerked his reins, forcing his horse to slide to the left. His spear lashed out and fended away Noel's sword. The clash of steel spurred Elsa to greater speed.

She ducked her head, running as fast as she could as the sound of hooves grew louder.

Something hard smashed against her ankle, forcing it against her opposite leg. She fell forward and slid through the muddy grass.

Shaking, she pushed herself to her knees. Waves of pain flowed through her ankle so badly it forced tears into her eyes. Something thick and wet dripped down her nose and into her eyes. She touched the liquid with her fingers, and they came away slick with red blood.

"Apologies, Queen Elsa."

_That sounds like Ornsten's voice, _Elsa thought foggily.

"I don't think that broke your ankle, but I'll check on it in a moment. Let me deal with your man first."

"Deal with me?" Noel's voice was tight with laughter.

"Ah, the Coronan," Ornsten said.

Elsa tried to stand, but the pain in her ankle forced her back to the ground with a heavy groan. Blood had rushed into her ankle, painting it purple and black, and forcing it to twice its normal size. Her head felt twice its usual size too. Elsa had to blink rapidly to dispel the darkness creeping in at the sides of her vision. A dull ringing roared in her ears.

Grimacing, she looked up and watched Noel and Ornsten circle each other. Ornsten held his spear loosely in his hands.

"Thank you for bringing the horse," Noel said. "I'll take it after I've killed you. It will make the journey south much quicker."

Ornsten leapt forward, jabbing with his spear.

Noel dodged forward and moved into Ornsten's guard. He slashed at Ornsten's chest, but the Ovelian blocked it with his spear haft. He swung his spear blade back and retreated a few steps, keeping Noel in range of his spear.

Noel clenched his teeth and raised his sword high, striking downwards to try and hack at the spear's wooden haft.

Ornsten's feet danced in the mud and rain as they pivoted and struck. His spear clanged against Noel's breastplate, leaving a long white scratch in the armour.

Elsa tried to shift back as Ornsten's jabs drove Noel towards her. Her mind was so clouded she barely registered when her hand touched a large stone sticking out of the grass. She wrapped her fingers around it and pulled it out of the ground.

Noel sprang forward, battering away Ornsten's spear and struck low. Ornsten dodged to the side and tried to keep Noel at a distance, but the Coronan refused to give Ornsten the time he needed.

Elsa dragged the stone around and squeezed it tightly. The stone was slick with rain. She drew her arm back and threw it as hard as she could.

The stone smashed against Ornsten's back and fell uselessly to the ground. Ornsten half-turned, surprised.

Noel slipped in and rang Ornsten's head with the pommel of his sword.

Ornsten collapsed to the ground, spear falling into the mud.

"Thank you, Elsa," Noel said breathlessly.

Elsa tried to reply, but her tongue felt heavily. The black spots around her eyes were growing larger. It felt like hundreds of tiny hammers were pounding her head.

Noel stood over Ornsten and raised his sword.

In the distance, Elsa saw a white sword moving towards them.

_Lennox?_

Noel reversed his grip on his sword and stabbed downwards, but the the white blade blocked his stroke and a heavy boot kicked the Coronan away from Ornsten's body.

_But Lennox is dead_. The thought came to her slowly as she fell back and let the black spots overwhelm her.

The hundreds of little hammers ceased.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

"I've heard about you," the Coronan said, grinning widely, as he wiped mud away from his face. He turned his sword in the air, pointing it at Aedan's heart.

"I can't say the same," Aedan replied as he dismounted Roach. He glanced at Ornsten, lying still in the mud. Blood trickled down his face, mixing with the mud and rain. Ornsten's eyes were open and blinking rapidly.

Aedan clenched his jaw and glared at the Coronan. _Keep him distracted._

"It's my job to stay hidden."

"Yet here you stand."

Noel smirked. "I am Noel, proud citizen of the Kingdom of Corona. And you are Aedan; bastard of Lord Edward Beoulve, champion to King Maximilian Du Von Ovelia and the sticker of foul witches, so the rumours suggest."

He swept forward, and Aedan went to meet him.

Whisper was fluid in Aedan's hand as he swept Noel's thrust to the side. His wound flared with pain. He could feel flesh blood trickling thickly down his side and staining his coat.

Out of the corner of his eyes, He saw Ornsten shake his head and rise to his knees. Aedan moved away, striking at Noel's defence, drawing his attention away from Ornsten.

The Coronan followed his step.

"I heard you were injured in your duel with Captain Lennox," Noel said. "It must be painful. Is that blood on your coat? I can't tell with all the red."

Aedan grimaced as Noel swung his sword low. He jumped back and parried Noel's following stroke.

Noel's guard opened for a split second before he raised his sword.

_He's trying to bait me into attacking,_ Aedan thought as he stepped backwards, deflecting Noel's strikes.

Noel raised his sword in both hands and stepped forward, delivering a large, overhand blow. Aedan raised Whisper to block.

His wound seared with pain.

A flash of pain crawled across his face. Aedan stepped close to Noel and used Whisper's hilt to knock his sword away.

Noel grinned.

Rage boiled inside Aedan's chest. He pulled his lips back in a silent snarl. He could feel sweat bead on his face, though it was washed away by the rain.

Noel struck high again.

Aedan felt his boot slip as he tried to move away. In desperation, he flung Whisper up and battered Noel's strike away with all the strength he could muster.

Noel's boot flashed and Aedan felt it strike him in the chest, pushing him to the ground.

His ribs throbbed.

Noel closed in, sword flashing.

Aedan rolled away from Noel's attack and swung Whisper in a sweeping arc. Noel leapt back to avoid the attack, while Aedan cried out in pain.

His wound was on fire. Black spots danced across his vision as he rose to his feet. He reached under his coat and touched the wound with his fingers. When he pulled them away they were slick with dark blood. _The stitches tore,_ Aedan thought and he frantically fought to keep his face still.

Behind Noel, Ornsten had risen to his feet and had retrieved his spear from where it had fallen.

_He hasn't noticed_, Aedan thought, heart leaping with excitement. He kept his eyes firmly on Noel's face, trying as hard as he could to avoid looking at Ornsten.

Ornsten raised his spear.

Noel suddenly frowned and launched himself to the side, twisting desperately.

Ornsten's spear stabbed at empty air.

Noel backed away, trying to keep both Aedan and Ornsten in his line of sight.

Back at the portcullis, the skirmish was dying down. The Ovelian soldiers were moving through the fallen Arendellians, stabbing down with spears and swords until the blue soldiers stopped moving. Some foolhardy Arendellians had placed their backs to the white walls and were desperately trying to fend off probing Ovelian thrusts and jabs.

"Lay down your sword," Aedan shouted.

"Put it down," Ornsten bellowed.

The Coronan snarled and stepped back. He turned suddenly and sprinted towards the forest.

Ornsten lunged forward and tried to spear Noel in the back.

_He's moving too quickly. _"Leave him, Ornsten," Aedan said, holding up his hand. "We can't catch him."

The Coronan cleared the forest line and disappeared into the trees. _The horses can't move fast enough in there._

Aedan exhaled heavily and let his sword-arm droop. His arms and legs suddenly felt heavy and his wound seared with pain. He glanced at Ornsten, looking at the blood and swelling bruise growing on his forehead. "Are you okay," Aedan asked.

"It's just a scratch," Ornsten said, wincing as he dabbed the wound with his fingers. "What about you?"

"I tore the rest of my stitches," Aedan replied. "It's bleeding badly."

"Let me see," Ornsten said.

Aedan waved him away. "It can wait. I'm more concerned about the Queen."

He knelt beside Queen Elsa, pushing back her hood and letting the rain wash away the blood staining her temple. He wiped away the mud stained her cheek with the edge of his cloak. _She looks so beautiful_, he thought idly, pushing her water-logged hair out of her pale face. _Peaceful, almost._ He placed his fingers against her throat and felt her steady heartbeat.

"She's alive," Aedan told Ornsten. "Her head will be pounding when she wakes up, but I think she'll live."

"Thank the Creator," Ornsten breathed, throwing his head back.

Aedan gathered Elsa up in his arms and carried her to Roach. The Queen's head drooped backwards, exposing her throat's soft, pale skin. Roach accepted Elsa's weight happily, although he sniggered and stomped his hooves when Aedan swung up behind her.

"Looks like we lost half the patrol," Ornsten said, as he led his horse next to Aedan.

Aedan looked back at the Ovelian soldiers. They were moving about the fallen, bending to help the wounded and covering the dead with their red cloaks. The Arendellian soldiers were all dead, aside from a few who had lain down their arms. They were on their knees with their hands bound behind their backs.

Elsa stirred and her head fell back against Aedan's chest.

_She must be exhausted._

"We need to get her back to the palace," Aedan said. "We'll come back for the dead."

Ornsten nodded and swung his horse around. His voice rose above the storm as he rode back to the gate.

Aedan used his knees to turn Roach around and looked at the forest, unease building in his stomach. _H__e's watching me._

He shook his head and galloped back to the city.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Author's Note: This was the longest chapter yet! There was so much to cover, I hope I did it justice. The first half of this chapter kind of felt like I was writing something out of Final Fantasy 6. I also threw a Witcher 3 reference in the chapter for good measure. I'm pretty keen about that game.

I made some changes to the previous chapter to add a bit of continuity and fix some annoying mistakes.

Writing fight scenes are pretty hard. I try to keep the sentences short, so it reads like an action scene. I also try to leave a lot of it up to your imaginations, rather than describe every minute detail about what's going on. I think I need some more practice.

What did you think? Did too much happen in this chapter? Did it need to be separated into another one? Or should this chapter and last chapter have been combined into a huge monster chapter?

Once again, a huge thanks to my reviewers :)


	8. Chapter 8: The Headman's Stage

Chapter Eight

\- The Headsman's Stage -

* * *

"That was a beautiful song," the sorceress's knight said to her one grey skied morning, which was far from beautiful.

Elsa didn't reply, but far from discouraged, her knight rested his arms on the stone wall beside her and looked out towards the leagues of green woods and white-capped mountains. "I've heard it before, but I can't place where."

She hated him for not remembering.

And she hated herself for hesitating when faced with his grief.

"I sing it when I feel sad . . . or alone," she found herself saying. "It makes me feel better."

"I can understand that," her knight said, because Elsa's song made him feel better too.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

"Bards write songs about mornings like these," Aedan said to the physician sewing the wound on his side. Grey clouds lingered outside – a memory of the storm that had wracked Arendelle during the night.

Maximilian's physician rolled his eyes. "If you tear these again, you can find another fool with a needle to sew you back together."

"You seem angry."

The physician tied the strip of linen around Aedan's chest so tightly it irritated his tender ribs.

"No fighting, I understand," said Aedan, wincing.

"No running, either," the physician added. "That cut was healing nicely before last night - before you went and ruined the process."

"That was hardly my fault."

The physician's eyes drilled holes in his lie.

"If you take things easy and rest, then the stitches can come out in a week. Maybe. Until then, change the dressing every evening and wash the wound with hot wine and water."

"Can I drink the leftover wine?"

"You can do what you sodding please," the physician said. "Just-"

"No running, no fighting, no bending over to lace my boots."

The physician gathered his things and left. Aedan waited until the door was firmly closed before throwing himself backwards on Princess Anna's soft, feather bed and closing his eyes. Someone had already come through the removed the charred corpses of Lord Yeoman's soldiers. The burnt and bloodied rug had been done away with too, but the thin stench of burning still lingered in spite of the breeze drifting in through the windows.

_ She was fire._

It was enough to force Aedan's eyes open. He knew Alexia was dangerous. He had seen her set people on fire with a wave of her hand – of course she was dangerous. He had never seen her do anything like _that_ before. _She's never done anything to hurt me,_ he thought, frowning. He focused on her pale beauty, and not the fiery monster she had become.

_We all become monsters in battle, _he reminded himself. After all, he had severed Lennox's head only to satisfy his anger and lust for blood.

"Ser Aedan?" A page wearing a red slash peered inside the room timidly.

"What it is?" Aedan asked, scowling at the page's use of 'ser'. _He's just being polite._

"The king has returned."

"I heard the trumpets."

"Ser?" The page looked confused. "His Majesty wishes to speak to you."

Aedan's nerves pricked uncomfortably. "Where is he?"

"In his bedchamber, ser. I'm to take you to him." The page hesitated. "His Majesty said I'm not to leave unless you're with me."

Aedan exhaled deeply and stood. "Then who am I to keep my king waiting."

The bedchamber Maximilian had appropriated from the deceased King and Queen of Arendelle was grand – the largest and most magnificent in the palace. The roof curved with the walls in a sweeping dome painted with portraits of bluebirds flying into the beautiful fjord Arendelle rested in. Whoever the painter was, he had used such painful and loving detail he would have fit in nicely in Ovelia. A long portrait of the Arendelle royal family hung across a wall. King Agdar and Queen Idun stood on either side of their two daughters, who were both smiling widely. Fake, painted smiles, Aedan thought. He had yet to see a child who was happy to stand for the hours upon hours a portrait took to paint. It was strange to see that portrait still on the wall now that Maximilian had taken over the chambers. The soft, blue and green tones of the portrait were at odds with the slashes of red and gold Maximilian had brought.

The man guarding the door to Maximilian's chambers stepped aside to let Aedan through and returned his greetings politely. Ser Lambert had protected Maximilian's father for years before he died. He had protected Max's older brothers too – for a time. Ser Lambert's hair was all grey now, and only his whiskers hinted at the fierce black his hair used to be. _I think I could take him, _Aedan thought, knowing that Lambert was thinking exactly the same about him.

Maximilian stood in front of his armour rack, lifting his arms as his squire, little Isaac Ashaela, unbuckled his armour. Dry blood stained Max's face and hair, though Aedan couldn't see any wounds. Maximilian had never been one to lead from the back. Aedan was certain his king's sword had been wet during the night.

"I can come back later," Aedan said, half-turning.

"Stay," Maximilian said. Isaac Ashaela finished unbuckling the golden breastplate and pulled it from Max's body. His form-fitting linen shirt was stained with sweat and blood. Max pulled it over his head and tossed it to the floor.

"You disobeyed my command last night," Maximilian said.

"I did," Aedan said. There was no use in trying to deny it.

"I told you to stay in the palace, but you decided to join a patrol and search for the Elsa yourself."

"I did," Aedan repeated. A clever quip about staying behind while others were out fighting, but he swallowed it at the look on Maximilian's face. Maximilian had a way of looking _through_ someone when he wanted to. That haughty, green-eyed stare had always made Aedan feel like he was nine years old and had just tracked mud through his father's hall.

"Leave us." Maximilian waved his hand at Isaac Ashaela and Ser Lambert.

"Your Majesty!" Ser Lambert's voice rose in protest.

"Wait outside, Ser," Maximilian said. "I have nothing to fear from Aedan."

Ser Lambert nodded and left after Isaac, perhaps just to show Aedan what following Maximilian's orders looked like. Then again, Aedan thought Ser Lambert was too old to be that petty. When the door was firmly closed behind them, Maximilian walked over to the wash basin and splashed cold water over his soiled face and hair.

Aedan's wound itched uncomfortably.

"I was barely over the bridge when Isaac came running to tell me your peculiar tale," Maximilian said. "He told me about how you rode over the bridge, lightning and rain all around you, with Queen Elsa asleep against your chest." He smirked. "Quite the romantic image. You've done much to make a name for yourself during this campaign. I'm told the soldiers are already singing songs about your victory over Captain Lennox."

"I . . . hadn't heard," Aedan replied. _A name?_

"I'm certain it won't be long until one is written about your midnight ride to recapture Elsa."

"Perhaps after the bards have finished writing about _your_ midnight ride to retake the harbour."

"Will they write of soldier's falling to swords they could not see in the darkness and rain? Of arrows and quarrels descending from places unseen?" Maximilian spat the words in disgust.

"Some will," Aedan said. "Others will write that lightning guided your sword, brightening the sky with every stroke."

"Perhaps," Maximilian replied. He wiped his face with a clean cloth. "Whenever things start to go your way, Aedan. . ."

He let the sentence hang. He didn't need to finish it, either. Aedan knew what he meant. "Sometimes I need to look before I leap," he offered.

Maximilian snorted. "That's putting it lightly."

"I suppose the lords aren't happy with me."

"I've hardly been back more than an hour and I've listened to tall tales and heard thinly-veiled demands. Lord Ashaela came first, demanding your exile. He would have asked for your head, had you not been the one to bring Elsa back to me."

_Banishment is better than chains._ "What did you tell him?"

"I told him that you would more than likely join one of the bandit clans still plaguing the eastern woodlands. Alone, that did not concern him, but I said that Alexia would most likely join you. A man of your talent with a sorceress at his side is not an enemy Ashaela wishes to face."

"Alexia wouldn't give up her position at court to join me in exile," Aedan said certainly.

"Perhaps not," Maximilian admitted. "But her time will come and she may not have a choice."

"What does that mean?"

Maximilian waved his hand. "It was just a thought. Don't concern yourself." He continued, "Lord Ashaela eventually settled on a public flogging, so the price of defiance can be seen by all. He wants the soldiers to know that not even a man with _your_ reputation is above the law."

Aedan could almost feel the rod destroying his back. He repressed a shudder.

"Lord Flavian wants to see you flogged too, only he wants to be the one to wield the stick." Maximilian's face was unreadable.

"And Lord Beoulve?" Aedan asked. He was sure his father would have something to say too.

"Lord Beoulve agrees that you should face some consequence. You disobeyed me to chase Elsa. Even though you were successful, it does not change the fact that you abandoned your post and your duty. If you remain unpunished it undermines my authority as king. When I give a command, it needs to be obeyed, do you understand?"

"Yes," Aedan said, feeling sufficiently chastised.

"As much as I think the bards would love to tell tales of you and Alexia leading a clan of hardened bandits, I'm not going to exile you," Maximilian said. "You'll face the rod this evening. Five lashes will be sufficient. You'll bruise, but the strikes should not scar.

"Thank you, Max."

"If you had not been the one to bring Elsa back. . ." Maximilian shook his head in wonderment, and amusement brightened his eyes. "Ornsten came to see me before. He told me Elsa would be in the hands of a Coronan spy if you had not been with him last night."

"I . . . Ornsten's being modest."

"He also emphasised he would be dead too." Maximilian wrung out a cloth and wiped away some of the blood staining his body. "Ornsten has never been one for embellishment, so I'm forced to believe his word must be true.

"Lord Beoulve and I are in agreement that your actions last night deserve reward, as well as punishment. We have discussed your fate in great detail. For your services to me and the realm, when we return to Ovelia you will kneel before the throne and rise as Ser Aedan Beoulve, thirdborn son of Lord Edward Beoulve, Lord of Lion's Peak."

His words rang in Aedan's head. _Aedan Beoulve. Aedan Beoulve. "_Father – Lord Beoulve – agreed to this?"

"_I_ agreed," Maximilian said. "It was Lord Beoulve's suggestion."

Aedan gaped in stunned silence.

"A suitable marriage will need to arranged, of course, but with a name like Beoulve there will be no shortage of eligible matches," Maximilian continued. "I believe Lord Ashaela's youngest daughter is still unwed. It's best if your connection to Alexia is smothered with another woman. Rosalind Ashaela is quite beautiful, and a popular figure at court." He rubbed his jaw. "Yes, I think she'll do nicely. Lord Ashaela might protest, but I can think of no one worthier than you."

"You're giving me my name?" Aedan stammered.

"Yes." Maximilian smirked. "And choosing your wife for you."

"I thought you were going to hang me," Aedan said.

"I still might, if you disobey me again."

"Rosalind Ashaela?" Aedan wondered, as he finally caught up to Maximilian. "Her father will never agree."

"Lord Ashaela will come around."

"And what of what Rosalind wants?" _And what of what I want?_

"Emilia tells me Rosalind has been quite enamoured with you ever since you sat with her at her mother's spring fair. I don't believe she'll protest." Maximilian smiled at the stunned look still drifting over Aedan's face. "This is still more than a month away, at least. We need to stabilise things in Arendelle before we can leave."

"We have Elsa," Aedan said. "Isn't she the reason we came?"

"We hoped to have Anna too," Maximilian reminded Aedan. "Without her, this kingdom needs to be firmly in hand before I can leave."

"I suppose last night proved we need more time here."

"That it did," Maximilan replied. He yawned and dunked a wash cloth into the basin. "I expect Anna's already found her way to Corona. If she has, she's now out of our reach."

"What does that mean for her sister?"

"My plans for Elsa haven't changed." A note of finality entered Maximilian's voice, and Aedan knew their conversation was over. "Lord Flavian is questioning some of the men we captured last night down in the dungeons. Take Ornsten and see what they can tell you about that Coronan spy."

Aedan inclined his head. "Your Majesty."

"Be back before noon."

"What's happening at noon?"

"The executions."

Aedan raised his eyebrows. "Aren't executions usually a dawn affair?"

"Not today."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

"This is the whitest dungeon I've ever seen," Aedan said to Ornsten. The other Ovelian nodded in agreement. White stones had been paved along the walls and ceilings, bouncing the smoke light from the lanterns hanging at each corner. The whole place seemed very clean and not like a dungeon at all.

A pair of guards sat at a small table by a door leading deeper into the dungeons. They stood up as Ornsten and Aedan approached and blocked their way.

"Lord Flavian does not wish to be disturbed," one of the guards said.

A muffled scream drifted through the door. Judging by the lack of reaction from the guards, the screams were not unusual.

"I suppose he doesn't," Aedan said. "But, you see, we have orders from the king, and I would rather disturb Lord Flavian's fun than disobey Maximilian again."

"Lord Flavian does not wish to be disturbed," the guard repeated stonily, although Aedan noticed the other guard stir uncomfortably.

Fortunately, Ornsten noticed too. "We can return with Maximilian's written instruction . . . but I don't think he'll be happy to hear that Lord Flavian's guards refused us entry."

"That won't be necessary," the second guard said, proving himself infinitely wiser than the first. "I will let Lord Flavian know you're waiting."

"I think I'd like to see what Lord Flavian is doing," Aedan said, stepping forward. The first guard blocked his way, hand wrapped tightly around his sword hilt.

Aedan felt for his sword, or even his dagger's jewelled hilt, before remembering he had left them in his chambers. He smiled at the guard and stepped back. "Or waiting here is acceptable."

The second guard unlocked the door leading deeper into the dungeons and disappeared. Aedan glanced at Ornsten and shrugged.

The guard was only gone a few minutes before he reappeared behind Lord Flavian. The short lord was wiping his face with a damp rag. He looked tired, but everyone was looking tired this morning.

"I thought Maximilian would send the two of you to do his bidding today," Lord Flavian said stiffly, voice hoarse. "You have proved to be quite the team."

"Well. . ." Aedan slipped his arm around Ornsten's waist, smirking when Ornsten pushed his arm back and took a step away.

Lord Flavian watched the exchange through slitted eyes. "I would have thought you humbled. Not many people can defy their king and escape punishment."

"Not without punishment," Aedan said. "I'm told you wanted to be the one to hold the lash. Such a shame His Majesty refused you."

"You should be begging me to hold the rod, _boy_," Flavian hissed, moustaches bristling. "When Rathmore is through with you, those five lashes will look like fifty. Your flesh will turn to jelly and your bones will split and break. Your whore sorceress will scoop your broken body from the ground, but not even her magic will be able to put you back together."

"If she fails, then I'm sure all the king's horses and men will succeed." Aedan kept his face smooth and his smile loose, so Flavian couldn't see the strands of nervousness he had sown.

Flavian's face went red with anger.

"Have the prisoners told you anything useful?" Ornsten cut in with impeccable timing.

Flavian's eyes pierced Aedan furiously, but he breathed deeply and said, "The ones you captured were hiding in the cellar of the Bold Man's Inn and had nothing to do with the attack on the harbour. There were twenty-two of them, and all went to aid Elsa's escape."

"Did they say anything about the Coronan?" Ornsten asked.

"Very little," Flavian replied. "He hid in the inn's attic and helped those Arendellian squirrels play their tricks. I don't believe they know any more than that."

Aedan repressed a shiver. There was a bloody thirst to Flavian's voice when he spoke.

"'The Bold Man's Inn'," Ornsten repeated thoughtfully. "Perhaps the innkeeper will know more."

"I already sent some soldiers to bring him and his family in," Flavian said.

Aedan could sense Ornsten's glance. "I think we'll join them."

"You do that," Flavian said. "Now, if there is nothing else?"

"Thank you for your assistance," Aedan said with a low sweeping bow.

Flavian shook his head in disgust and went back into the depths of the dungeons.

"You shouldn't antagonise him, Aedan," Ornsten warned as they left the dungeons and emerged into the grey morning. "He's a powerful enemy you can't afford to make."

He was right, as Aedan would one day find.

Ornsten was often right.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Judging by its sign, the Bold Man's Inn had been rightly named. The sign depicted a young man with wispy brown hair creeping beneath a table to catch a glimpse at a woman's ankles. The rest of the inn didn't seem so bold, but then, the innkeeper had been bold enough to hide two dozen Arendellian soldiers and a Coronan spy under his roof, and those two dozen soldiers and that Coronan spy had been bold enough to assault the Western Gate in an attempt to flee the city with Queen Elsa. Perhaps being under the inn's roof inspired men to be bold.

Aedan dismounted Roach (who was much happier to be outside now that it wasn't raining) and looked at Flavian's soldiers. There were ten of them waiting outside the inn, and Aedan suspected even more were inside.

The Arendellian townspeople went about their business on the bustling streets. Aedan had seen men balancing on ladders or kneeling on roofs, repairing the damage from the night's storm. Any talk between the Arendellians died when the Ovelians walked by, only to resume when they were too far away to hear.

Aedan grunted in surprise as he walked right into a tall girl who was hurrying around a corner. The girl bounced backwards and almost fell.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, ducking her head so her blonde curls fell in front of her face.

"No trouble," Aedan said politely. He stepped to the side with a small bow and let the girl go through. She looked at him in surprise, before hunching her shoulders into a thick, blue cloak and walking away.

Aedan shrugged at Ornsten's inquisitive eyebrow.

Flavian's soldiers straightened when Ornsten and Aedan approached. "Ser Oakley's in charge," one of the soldier's said, when Ornsten asked. "He's inside."

Aedan did not feel especially bold when he walked inside the inn, either. There were no hunting trophies on the walls, not a single portrait of a noble or bold deed. There _was _an Arendellian flag on the wall behind the bar. _Perhaps the soldier's took their boldness from that, _Aedan thought. The tavern was especially clean. All of the chairs had been placed on the tables, and the floors looked freshly swept and mopped. That changed when Aedan walked into the private rooms behind the tavern and saw the carnage inside.

Ser Oakley surveyed the mess of clothes and other personal items with his hands on his hips. When he noticed Ornsten and Aedan, a large grin broke out on his face.

"I'm really not surprised to see the two of you show up," he laughed, clapping Aedan's shoulder. "I'm glad to see Maximilian hasn't put you in a cell."

"So am I," Aedan replied. He liked Oakley; the knight was better than most.

"The place was near deserted when we arrived," Oakley said, after greeting them.

"'Near'?" Aedan's eyebrows rose.

"We ran off some kids trying to haul an ale barrel through the front doors. Opportunistic little bastards."

"Squirrels?"

"Harmless ones, if they were. I'm not about to waste my time dragging twelve year olds to the dungeons."

"I wouldn't either," Aedan said.

"So the innkeeper's gone?" Ornsten asked.

"Would you have remained?" Oakley replied. Ornsten shook his head.

"I guess not."

"It looks like he left in a hurry." Oakley gestured widely at the mess. "He'll be in the city, somewhere, but I don't like our chances of finding him."

"Not without going from house to house."

"Maximilian doesn't care about the innkeeper," Aedan said, nudging an overturned chair with his boot. "He cares about the Coronan and finding out why he was here."

"He'll care if the innkeeper knows something about the Coronan that we don't, and I think he likely does."

Aedan considered this for a very brief moment before nodding at Ornsten. "I think you're likely right."

The attic revealed no further clues. Aedan followed small puddles of water towards a ladder leading up into the steeple, but found nothing up there except for more puddles of water. He supposed someone could fit through the gaps in the steeple and walk onto the roof, but Aedan wasn't willing to try squeezing through the gap. The image of getting himself stuck and having to shout for Ornsten's help was not one he fancied.

"Anything up there?" Ornsten asked, when Aedan came back down.

"Just more water," Aedan replied. He frowned at the puddles of water on the attic floor. "Someone was up in the steeple last night."

"Seems that way," Ornsten said.

Aedan busied himself by pacing the storeroom, searching for any loose floorboard where something small could be hidden. He was thoroughly disappointed when he couldn't find one.

"I'll have the men take this place apart," Oakley said, flinging himself onto one of the stools surrounding the round table by the door.

"I'm not sure it matters," Aedan said finally. "If I were a spy, _I_ wouldn't leave anything lying around for someone to find. From what I gathered from that Coronan, I don't think he would either. Would you?"

"No, but. . ."

"I think searching the place is a good idea," Aedan said quickly. "I just doubt we'll find anything."

"The other patrols should busy themselves with finding that innkeeper," Ornsten said.

Aedan frowned and tapped his chin. "What else did Flavian say about the Coronan?"

Ornsten shrugged. "That he hid in the inn's attic, and . . . helped the squirrels play their tricks."

Aedan grinned at his friend. "The Coronan may be gone, but his little squirrels are still here. If we find some of them, they might be able to tell us more."

"So we _are_ going to to start dragging twelve year olds to the dungeons?" Ornsten said.

"God, the townspeople would likely riot in the streets. I was thinking pull them aside in the streets and intimidate the little bastards."

Ornsten snorted.

"No, we just need to have a quiet word to one of them and see what we can uncover. I'm certain we'll find a squirrel before we find that innkeeper."

"Especially if they're bold enough to try rolling a barrel of ale out of this place." Ornsten's grin faded. "It's getting close to noon."

Aedan's grin faded too. "Oh. You're right."

"Max wants me to ready Elsa."

"Hmm."

Oakley cleared his throat. "I'll tell the men to start the search." He departed, leaving Aedan and Ornsten alone.

_Your flesh will turn to jelly and your bones will split and break. Your whore sorceress will scoop your broken body from the ground, but not even her magic will be able to put you back together._ Flavian's threat echoed.

"I didn't thank you, did I?" Ornsten said.

"Thank me?" Aedan was confused. "For what?"

"You saved my life last night. The Coronan would have put his sword through me."

"Oh." Aedan shrugged and managed a small grin. "Thanks for convincing Max not to kill me."

"He was never going to," Ornsten said. "He'd have to be mad to want you dead after what you did – even if you did disobey him."

"When we go home, Maximilian is going to give me my name." Aedan said the words casually, like he was telling his friend about the weather. "My father discussed it with him. For my services to the realm they're going to give me my name."

"That's fantastic!" Ornsten exclaimed. "Beoulve?"

Aedan nodded. "He also wants me to marry Rosalind Ashaela."

"Rosalind's a sweet girl . . . though I can't imagine her father approving."

"That's what I said to Max."

Ornsten thought for a moment. "Have you told Alexia?"

"No." Aedan elaborated, "I haven't had the chance."

"How do you think she'll respond."

"Hopefully better than she took half-a-dozen Arendellian soldiers bursting into her bedchamber last night."

"Hopefully," Ornsten agreed. A wide smile broke over his face. "You owe me three gold pieces."

"What for?"

"The bet before we set sail, don't you remember? I bet you three gold pieces that you would find your wife in Arendelle."

"Rosalind is in Ovelia," Aedan protested.

"And you found out you're going to marry her in Arendelle." Ornsten grinned triumphantly. "You owe me three pieces of gold, my friend."

Aedan shook his head, but still reached into his pocket for his coin pouch. "Would you take the coins from my dead eyes?" he shot at Ornsten. His hand grasped at nothing. _What?_ He was sure he had tucked away his pouch of coins before he left the palace. He patted his other pocket, but felt nothing.

And then, realisation.

"That girl picked my pocket!" Aedan exclaimed

"What girl?" Ornsten asked.

"The girl! The one with blonde hair who ran into me before we came inside."

"Don't try to squirrel your way out of paying me," Ornsten said.

"I'm not," Aedan protested. He pulled at his pockets to show Ornsten they were empty. "It's really gone."

Ornsten stared at the empty pockets before throwing back his blond head and laughing. Soon enough, Aedan was laughing too.

"Do you want to go after her?" Ornsten eventually said, wiping his eyes.

"No, let the bold squirrel have her prize," Aedan said, and for a moment, he forgot all about Alexia (and Rosalind Ashaela), and his wound (which still ached), and the beating he was about to suffer.

And all because of a girl with sticky fingers.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

"Wake up."

Chains jerked together, attacking the cloying fog inside Elsa's head. Her eyes opened and the beautiful fog gave way to agony. Soft morning light attacked Elsa's eyes. She tried to roll away, but someone took her by the wrists and pulled her up. Blood rushed into her head so rapidly she felt like she was going to pass out – or throw up what little was left in her stomach.

"Drink."

Elsa tried to pull away, but the grip on the back of her head was relentless. She felt cold water touch her lips.

"If you don't drink, I'll pull your head back and pour it down your throat."

Reluctantly at first, Elsa opened her mouth and drank. After the first mouthful she tried to reach up and hold the cup, but chains rattled and she felt her arms jerk back. She opened her eyes and saw two green eyes framed by weary hoods looking back at her.

_No,_ she thought desperately as she felt her heart sink to her toes.

"Good girl," Ornsten said as he pulled the empty cup away and removed his hand from the back of Elsa's head.

Elsa tried to move away, but without Ornsten's hand holding her steady she almost fell backwards. She blinked rapidly and felt the roughly hewn stone of the Northern Tower beneath her fingers. Blood from her abused ankle stained the ground. A quick look showed it twice its normal size, black and blue with bruising.

"It's not broken," Ornsten said. "But it will be sore for a while. I didn't mean to hit it, you know. I meant to nudge you in the back to topple your balance, but my horse almost slipped over and I tapped your ankle with the back end of my spear. It's one of those happy accidents."

"I don't care about my ankle."

"You have my apologies, regardless." Ornsten touched the purple bruise staining his temple and grimaced. "Though you did repay me in kind."

Ornsten refilled the cup from a silver pitcher and placed it back to Elsa's lips. "And again."

Sweet, red wine touched her tongue. Its lofty scent filled her nose and threatened to make her head spin again. She turned her head away and tried to draw back.

A tired sigh escaped Ornsten's mouth. "I'm not trying to poison you, My Lady. The wine will help."

"How could it help?" she spat.

"It will help dull the pain you're surely feeling, for starters. It might also help with the pain in your head." Ornsten touched the purple bruise staining his temple and grimaced.

Elsa tried to touch the bruise on her hairline, but the chains went taut and stopped her hand.

Ornsten raised the cup to Elsa's lips again. "Drink the wine and I'll unlock those shackles."

Elsa raised her chin and tried to let Ornsten know that she was only consenting to drink so she could have her hands free. Elsa felt warmth fill her stomach with each swallow. The aroma rushed to her head almost instantly. Ornsten held her by the shoulder and waited for the rush to pass.

"You can have another, if you like," he said. "But by the look of you, another may put you under that cot."

"I don't want another," Elsa said, voice sounding a little stronger. Ornsten lifted her wrists, one and a time, and unlocked the shackles binding her arms to the cot. Elsa held her hands in front of her and tried to massage her wrists, but felt only the smooth gold of the bracers. Her eyes burned, and she wiped away angry tears with the back of her hand. _He won't see me cry! _"Why are you doing this?"

"I'm doing this because my king commanded me," Ornsten replied, a little coldly.

She pictured hitting Ornsten over the head with the water pitcher and making a mad dash out of the tower. _I wouldn't make it out of the palace, _she thought in resignation.

Ornsten released a heavy breath. "I'm not going to pretend like I don't know why you tried to escape. I sympathise, I really do. Max does too, in his own way."

Elsa scoffed at that. She hadn't seen Maximilian since the ceremony, but in all of their conversations he had never shown her anything regarding sympathy. He had treated her like a little girl playing queen, with his slow words and courtesies, and after she was captured she had seen nothing but disdain and contempt.

"He can sympathise with your situation," Ornsten corrected delicately. "He was held prisoner by a clan of bandits when he was younger than you are now."

"How did he escape them?" Elsa asked.

"He didn't. He became friends with them," Ornsten said.

"If this is some story to try and win me over-" Elsa began.

"It's not," Ornsten said quickly. "When Maximilian heard how much the bandits wanted to ransom him for, he demanded that they increase the figure ten-fold – he was King Meriden's son, the bandits could have asked for what they wished and the King would have paid. The whole time Maximilian was with the bandits he joked with them, claiming that when he was free he would come back and slaughter them all. I'm told the bandits found it uproariously funny.

"After the ransom and been paid and Maximilian was returned to his father, he returned with a band of knights and slaughtered all of the bandits he had laughed and joked with for more than a month. He killed them all and returned the ransomed money to his father."

"Are you saying I should pretend to be Maximilian's friend, then when I'm free, come back and murder him?"

"No." Ornsten smirked. "That's regicide and they would behead you as soon as they could get your head mounted on a block." His smile faded as soon as the words left his mouth. "I was just trying to tell you that Maximilian does have some sympathy for you. Are you sure you don't want some more wine, Elsa?"

Elsa shook her head. "I told you no."

Ornsten filled the cup full of wine and drank it down himself. "Aedan tells the story about Max and the bandits with more flair than I do." he said, wiping his mouth. "Maybe he'll tell you the tale, one day."

_That will never happen._

Ornsten took Elsa's arm and led her down the spiral staircase. Each step sent waves of pain flowing through her ankle. If it wasn't for Ornsten's iron grip on her arm she might have fallen half-a-dozen times, though Elsa wasn't sure if his hold on her was to help her or to stop her running away.

_I couldn't run even I wanted to, _Elsa thought grimly.

Four soldiers carrying spears flanked Elsa and Ornsten on either side after they left the tower. They marched solemnly, almost like they were there to protect her and not guard her from escaping. Elsa straightened her shoulders and tried to pretend like it was the former. Arendellian servants paused in their duties to watch. _They surely heard about what happened_, Elsa thought after a wide-eyed serving girl nearly dropped her tray when they walked around the corner.

A wooden platform had been hastily constructed in the palace courtyard. It wasn't very tall, but it succeeded in elevating the man standing on it high above everyone else. Rathmore would have towered over everyone without the platform as an aid. A black leather hood had been tied over his face with rope. Narrow slits had been cut in the leather for his eyes and mouth. A large, serrated cleaver was stuck in the wood beside him. It was covered in dried blood. Ovelian soldiers stood around the platform, guarding it from the host of Arendellian nobles who were standing in a tight group nearby. Elsa recognised most of the faces, including the thick-red beard of Lord Bartholomew, who Lennox had sent Anna to on the way to Corona.

_I hope Anna's safe._ She was only supposed to rest there, before crossing the border. Elsa was sure that if Anna was captured, Maximilian would wave that leverage in Elsa's face.

Another thought filled her with terror.

"Am I going to be executed?" Elsa asked Ornsten.

The Ovelian shook his blond head. "Not today."

"Then who is?"

The soldiers guarding the entrance to the palace parted like water, allowing Maximilian to stride through. Maximilian wore his golden crown high on his brow today, and he carried Arendelle's sceptre like a mace.

"The ones responsible for the deaths of our soldiers," Ornsten said. "More than three hundred Ovelians died in the fighting last night. They'll never see home again."

"And how many Arendellians died in exchange?_"_

_ "_Many more."

"They'll never see their homes again either. What makes the lives of your soldiers greater than the lives of mine?"

"Winning, mostly." Aedan walked through the soldiers guarding Elsa and stood on the other side of Ornsten. He looked exhausted too, with large dark rings shadowing his golden brown eyes. The stare Elsa levelled at him could have crushed shields. An old soldier dressed in ornate armour followed Aedan and stood behind him.

"Are you nervous?" Ornsten said.

"I don't know if 'nervous' is the right word."

"You should feel nothing but shame," the old knight said.

"Followed by nothing but pain," Aedan retorted under his breath.

Elsa blocked the conversation as Maximilian hefted Arendelle's sceptre and walked up to the platform. He cleared his throat and looked at the mass of people coldly. Almost at once, all talking and conversation died, until everyone had their eyes on Maximilian.

Maximilian cleared his throat and said, "It is fitting that this day is covered by grey cloud, for we are gathered her to witness dismal business. Last night, wracked by storm in all its fury, you fought for me. Last night, wracked by storm in all its fury, the legions of Ovelia showed this kingdom their worth. For that, your legend will live on for eternity. There is one soldier among you, who has shown his worth many times. He stood outside Arendelle's walls with the sun warming his back and duelled Arendelle's champion. He fought for me, and he fought for you, so that each of you might go back to your homes unbloodied. His efforts were undone last night."

Elsa shot a scathing glance at Aedan, but the Ovelian did not notice. He was looked at his king with a grim look on his face. Sweat beaded on his brow and his hands shook.

"Last night, soldiers came and tried to take Queen Elsa from our protection. They tried to take the fjord and burn our ships in the bay. Brave men died stopping them." Maximilian's eyes flickered to Aedan. "Courage is a virtue to be admired, but courage that directs you to disobey your king must be tempered with restraint.

"Last night, one soldier among you disobeyed his orders to pursue Queen Elsa. That soldier took Queen Elsa from the hands of a Coronan spy and saved the life of Ser Ornsten Brightleaf, a soldier no less valorous and just. Despite fierce injury, this soldier rode across the bridge with Elsa against his chest.

"One day, this soldier will be rewarded for his valour, but today he will be punished for his disobedience." Maximilian let his words hang in the air.

"Aedan, step forward."

Aedan sighed heavily and stepped out of the crowd. Everyone's eyes seemed to be on his as they watched him climb the hastily erected steps and walk across the platform. The old knight followed, hand on his sword hilt.

"Aedan, bastard with no name, for disobedience to your king in a time of war, I sentence you to five lashes. Find honour in your punishment, Aedan, and do not disobey me again."

As Maximilian stepped back, Rathmore stepped forward. He took Aedan's arms and tied them around the post rising from the centre of the platform. Aedan did not say a word, but Elsa could see his chest rising and falling as he breathed deeply.

When Aedan was secured to the post, Rathmore took deep handfuls of Aedan's shirt and tore from his back like the linen was soft lace. He even tore away the bandages protecting Aedan's angry red wound.

"I hope he doesn't strike the cut," Elsa heard Ornsten breathe.

A savage voice in Elsa's head hoped Rathmore would.

Rathmore picked up a thick wooden rod with a leather thong hanging from one end. The rod was longer than Elsa's arm.

There was no ceremony, no long pause. Rathmore raised his arm and brought the rod down against Aedan's exposed back.

To his credit, Aedan did not cry out.

Then the second strike sent him to his knees. A feral sounding groan escapes Aedan's tightened lips. The places where the rod had hit were already red and swelling fast.

Perhaps spurred by Aedan's lack of sound, Rathmore struck even harder. To the giant man's pleasure, Aedan shouted in pain. It tore through his throat so viciously Elsa winced.

Rathmore raised the rod for the final time and brought it down against Aedan's shoulders so savagely it shattered into dozens of wooden shards.

Aedan slumped against the post, breathing heavily, while Rathmore tossed what remained of the rod away.

Ornsten cursed under his breath. A pair of Ovelian soldiers cut Aedan away from the post and half-dragged him down from the platform. Aedan's back was already purpling and swollen, and blood dripped from where the rod had torn skin.

"Bring the prisoners," Maximilian said, breaking the silence that had fallen after Aedan's screams.

Ornsten stepped forward as the soldiers brought Aedan by. "That looked painful," he said.

"Fuck you, Ornsten," Aedan said, grinning through clenched teeth. He straightened and shrugged the soldier's arms away. "I can stand now, I think."

"You should be getting your back tended to," Ornsten said.

"I want to see this, first." Aedan suddenly put his arm around Ornsten's shoulders and slumped into him. "Although, I might need a little help."

Elsa blocked Aedan and Ornsten's conversation out as the line of soldiers parted, allowing five men bound in heavy chains to walk through. A red-cloaked soldiers walked on either side of the prisoners, dragging them forward if need be. Their blue-green coats marked them as Arendellian soldiers. She was almost relieved to see that none of the soldiers had helped her last night, but a heart's prick reminded her that they were probably all dead at the Western Gate.

Her heart beat furiously.

At the end of the line was Bishop Axel, wrists chained to his feet like the soldiers ahead of him. The Ovelians had stripped him of his purple cloak and mitre, revealing dirtied clothes beneath. He didn't look up as he was marched by Elsa, but Elsa could see the bruises across his face. It looked like he was barely able to put one foot in front of the other.

"Why is he there? He hasn't done anything wrong!" Elsa gripped Ornsten's arm in her desperation to make him understand. She saw Aedan look at her, curiosity etched across his pained grimace.

"Lord Flavian questioned him last night," Ornsten said. "The Bishop confessed to lacing a pot of stew with sleeping weed. A servant saw him, apparently."

"They tortured an old man?" Elsa asked, appalled.

Ornsten's lip curled in distaste.

"I'm sure the Church will have words to say about this," Aedan said.

The guards bent the prisoners over and placed their necks over the blocks lined across the platform. A wicked grin appeared through Rathmore's mouth slit and he stood by the first soldier with his cleaver on his shoulder.

Maximilian raised his voice and said, "For your crimes against Ovelia and its provinces, I, Maximilian Du Von Ovelia, King of the Southern Lands and the Northern Provence of Arendelle, sentence you to die. If you have final words, speak them now."

"The only monarch I'll ever bend my knee to is standing over there," one of the Arendellian said loudly, "And her name is Queen Elsa Arendelle."

The other soldiers shouted their agreement. Shouted _her_ name.

"He doesn't like that," Elsa heard Aedan comment.

Elsa thought Aedan was right. Maximilian's jaw was set so hard it looked like it was carved from stone.

"The old man's not saying anything," Ornsten said.

As soon as the words left Ornsten's mouth, Bishop Axel raised his head and began to sing. Elsa recognised the hymn, she had sung it in church for as long as she could remember. The Arendellian soldiers drifted into silence, listening as Bishop Axel's deep voice filled with power.

_Alone, I searched through shadows,  
__My heart is cold,  
__and hope has fled.  
__In my deepest memories  
__I see you reaching out to me  
__With hands like dawn  
__Your love fills me._

Maximilian's eyes were cold. He pointed at Bishop Axel and stood back.

Rathmore hefted his cleaver and held it over Bishop Axel's necks. Elsa saw the grotesque man's eyes close, like he was listening to the song.

She heard Ornsten breathe in sharply and Aedan whisper in surprise.

_Though the night be long,  
__And my dreams are dark.  
__I look to the sky  
__I see you reaching out to me  
__With hands like dawn.  
__Your love fills me._

Bishop Axel's voice faded as the song drew to a close. He closed his eyes and bent his head over the block. Rathmore shook his head, like a heavy fog had just been lifted.

Elsa closed her eyes as Rathmore's serrated cleaver fell. She jumped when she heard it thud into the wooden platform and heard her people cry out in furious distaste.

"He was a holy man!" someone shouted.

"Open your eyes," Ornsten said in her ear. "They're up there because of you. Don't dishonour them by looking away."

Elsa opened her eyes and felt her mouth twist. Rathmore raised his foot and kicked Bishop Axel's headless corpse off of the block. The Ovelian soldiers locked their shields together and raised their spears as the crowd of Arendellians tried to push forward.

_Don't_, Elsa thought. She caught a nobleman's eyes and shook her head.

Rathmore moved along the platform, his cleaver rising and falling and coming away bloodier with each stroke. Elsa watched him behead her people and did not look away.

When it was over, Maximilian left the platform and ordered the soldiers to take the Arendellian nobles away.

"Bring her," Maximilian said to Ornsten as he strode by.

Aedan and Ornsten exchanged a weary glance.

Elsa looked at Bishop Axel's severed head and felt fire burn deep inside her chest.

The grey clouds loosed a splattering of drizzly rain.

As Aedan tried to ignore the pain wracking his abused back, he watched the rain fall on Elsa's head and thought back to that morning. Grey mornings are never nice and are often the subject of heart-wrenching ballads of tragedy and loss. He wondered if bards would ever sing songs about a deposed queen's grey grief and the hymn which held an executioner's blade.

* * *

Author's Note: That story about Maximilian and and the bandits is taken straight from history. When Julius Caesar was young he was captured by pirates and ransomed. He made the pirates ask for more gold, and became friends with them. They liked his arrogance, because the entire time he was there he would joke with them, saying that he would come back and kill them all. The pirates got their gold, Caesar was released, and he came back with soldiers and slaughtered all of the pirates who had taken him prisoner.

It's funny how a chapter comes together. It took me ages to write this and I changed around so much. The execution scene was originally the first part. Everything else was swapped around, or pushed back, moved forward.

I apologise for any glaring mistakes.

Once again, a huge thanks to everyone that reviewed the last chapter. They make me feel warm inside.


	9. Chapter 9: Ovelia

Chapter Nine

\- Ovelia -

* * *

When Maximilian spoke his voice caressed her like a lover, kissed her ears, and filled her with gentle dread.

Ornsten took her arm and led her back to her tower cell. He didn't say a word to her, though Elsa wouldn't have heard if he did. She barely heard the echo of Ornsten's boots when they struck the hard stone tower steps.

Perhaps Ornsten sensed her distress (how could he not) and took pity on her. He guided her to the mess of furs and blankets that made up her pallet and sat her down gently, mindful of her swollen ankle. He pressed a cold metal cup into her hand and filled it with wine.

"Drink if you want," Ornsten said. "I'll leave the jug here."

"You're not going to chain me?" Elsa asked. She hated how weak her voice sounded.

"Not tonight." Ornsten left, and Elsa heard the lock click behind him.

_They'll be mounting the heads on the city gates_, Elsa thought grimly. Suddenly, the red of the wine churned her stomach and she flung the cup against the wall. Red splashed across the stones, reminding Elsa sickeningly of Bishop Axel's blood.

Using the wall as an aid, Elsa rose and limped towards the narrow window.

The sun was setting.

Elsa always loved the orange warmth of the fjord when the sun cast its last light on the high crests and steep falls.

Bishop Axel's song still haunted her.

Elsa breathed deeply and sang.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Aedan found Alexia in Princess Anna's chambers, wrapped in bedsheets and shivering. The hearth was blazing furiously, licking at the solid stones around the fireplace. Aedan wondered if she was forcing the fire to burn with such vehemence. The corpses of Lord Yeoman's fallen men had been taken away – of which Aedan was very thankful – and the stone floor had been scrubbed clean. The scorched and bloodied rug had been taken away too; without it the room seemed so large and empty.

"You've returned," Alexia said in a shadowed voice.

"Not without my scars," Aedan quipped. The scar Lennox gave him seemed still, though his back still burned as hotly as the fireplace.

"Are you coming in?" Alexia lifted her head from the pillows, pushing her thick, black hair away from her eyes. He felt her gaze touch his bare chest and stomach – the thought of covering his back with his coat had been too painful.

"The king has forbidden me from seeing you." Aedan said.

"Then why are you here?"

Aedan smiled, and saw Alexia's lips curl into her own charming grin. Her purple rouge had been carelessly wiped away, leaving only a hint of violet over full pink lips.

"Close the door behind you," Alexia said.

Aedan swung the heavy oaken door shut. Alexia's black dress was soaking wet and strewn across the floor. Aedan nudged it with his boot and went over to the basin. He heard Alexia's breath catch in her throat.

"What happened?" she demanded.

Aedan filled a silver goblet with cold water and let it dribbled across his shoulders and down his back, wincing as the water touched his tender flesh. Alexia had half-risen, clutching the bedsheets to her chest with something that very much looked like concern on her face. Aedan bit back the witty remark as it was about to leave his lips. "This was Maximilian's price for disobedience."

"Why?"

Aedan almost laughed. "You might be the only person in Arendelle who hasn't heard." He scooped more water out of the basin, but Alexia appeared at his side before he could pour it.

"Let me," the sorceress said, taking the goblet from him. Their fingers brushed together, and Aedan was shocked at how cold her skin was. In all the years he had known the sorceress – especially over the last month – he had never known her to be anything but warm to touch.

"You're freezing!" he blurted in his surprise.

The sorceress smirked, murmuring in his ear, "And you're so warm." A white rag appeared in her hand and she doused it with water.

"You're never cold," Aedan said.

"I am this morning," Alexia replied. "Now hold still."

Aedan clenched his teeth together as Alexia patted his back with the wet rag.

"I said hold still."

"I didn't move!" Aedan protested.

"You did." She placed her hand on his shoulder to keep him still. "Now, tell me how this happened."

The rag and the water in the basin were both stained red with his blood by the time Alexia finished bathing his abused back, and Aedan had finished telling her his version of the events from last night and that morning.

"I may have been the one to bring Elsa back to the palace," Aedan said, "But Ornsten was the one who stopped her from escaping."

Alexia ignored his attempt at humility. "And what did our glorious king say to you when you returned?"

Aedan turned to face her, and felt himself stir when he realised she was naked. "You don't sound too happy with our glorious king."

Alexia shot him a stony look and wandered towards the fireplace.

Aedan's grin returned in full force. He followed her to the fire and touched the small of her back. "He's going to legitimise me when we return home. I've earned my father's name."

"He holds a name in one hand and the lash in another." Alexia hardly sounded impressed.

"The beating's nothing," Aedan assured her. "In a month or two I'll be healed with only a few scars to keep me company." Alexia traced the freshly-stitched wound Captain Lennox had dealt him with her fingertip.

"Is this nothing too?"

"Wounds heal; scars fade." Aedan shrugged. "I've wanted a name ever since I was old enough to understand what 'bastard' meant."

Alexia peered into his eyes before her smeared purple lips curled into a deep smile. "I knew you were destined for greatness, my love." She placed her hands on his chest and pressed her lips against his jaw. Her touch was ice, but her lips filled him with fire. "Come to bed. It's been a long night, and you have not slept."

"I'm not sure how much use I'll be to you like this."

Alexia ignored him and pulled him into bed. Aedan lay on his stomach, and pushed the blankets to his waist. The sorceress shivered.

"Why are you so cold?" Aedan asked.

"Anyone can become cold," Alexia said sleepily. Her eyes were slits through her thick lashes.

"Not you."

Alexia lifted a lazy hand and caressed his cheek with her cool fingertips. "Even me."

Silence fell between them, but Aedan could not sleep. He heard Alexia's breathing slow. The heat from the fireplace made Aedan's eyes feel heavy, but he did not let them close. "When I become a lord, I'll be expected to wed," Aedan murmured.

"Are you proposing marriage, Aedan?" Alexia's eyes did not open, and her breathing remained steady.

"Nothing like that," he said quickly.

Alexia's lips twitched. "I do not want to marry you either."

"That's not what I meant."

"Hush, I was only teasing." Alexia opened her eyes. "Of course you will need to marry. I expect you'll find no shortage of noblewomen hoping to enter your marriage bed when word of your deeds reach Ovelia."

"Maximilian has one particular woman in mind."

"Oh? Who?"

"Rosalind Ashaela."

"I don't believe I know her."

"The queen's sister. Lord Ashaela bought her to court last year."

"Ah, I remember the girl. She looks much like her sister, yes?" Aedan nodded. "You would make a fitting pair."

"I don't want to marry Rosalind Ashaela."

"No?" if Alexia was pleased, she gave no sign. Instead, she entwined her legs with his and took hold over his chin with her fingertips. "She's a beautiful woman."

"I'm already looking at a beautiful woman," Aedan said. Alexia laughed.

"And when you marry dear Rosalind, you'll have two." Alexia smiled wickedly. It was the same smile she always gave him when they were making love. "Perhaps she'll even enjoy the idea of a witch sharing her marriage bed."

"Not if she's anything like the rest of her family." Aedan dispelled the image Alexia had sown before it had a chance to take root.

"Perhaps not," said Alexia.

"Everything will change when we return home."

"For the better, I'm sure."

"I hope that's true."

Alexia smiled and closed her eyes. "Fear not, Aedan. Marriage to Rosalind Ashaela or not, I'm not finished with you yet."

Aedan lay awake for a long time – long after Alexia drifted back to sleep. As the sun was setting, and orange light streamed through the narrow cracks in the curtains, Aedan thought he could hear a woman singing Bishop Axel's sweet, sad song.

His skin crawled.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Olle Gunderson's smithy was one of Ria's favourite places to be.

Usually.

Today, the long-limbed, auburn-haired girl was perched on Olle's largest anvil, legs crossed and arms folded as she glared at the blacksmith. If Olle Gunderson noticed her stares, he gave no sign. Instead, he raised his rounded hammer and beat against a metal breastplate with lazy ease.

Sparks flashed as the heavy hammer met steel, and the dull ring filled Ria's ears. It was usually such a comforting sound.

Usually.

Ria couldn't hold silent any longer. "Don't you feel ashamed?" she demanded, raising her voice above the hammer.

Gunderson's hammer smashed against the breastplate once more. "What was that, girly?" Olle's voice had none of the depth that his corded arms, or broad-shoulders implied. He spoke with a frosty, "northern" accent. Ria's mother told her that the Gunderson's came from Spoke - the lonely settlement governed by Arendelle on the other side of the North Mountain. Everything north of the mountain was north to Ria – as it was to almost everyone she knew. Beyond that was frosty waste of ice and snow and frozen seas where foolhardy explorers vanished without a trace.

"I would have told them 'no'," Ria said, not daring to repeat the words that captured Gunderson's attention.

Gunderson laid his hammer on the smaller anvil, and held up the breastplate to the sunlight. Ria had spent enough time around the smithy enough to know that he had almost finished with the repairs. A few more sharp hits and the dent would be banged out. Of course, that only fuelled Ria's frustration. "You have the luxury of saying 'no', girl," Olle said. "The Redcloaks have no use for you."

Ria gritted her teeth. "Old Stronghammer refused to repair their weapons."

"Do you know what happened to Old Stronghammer last night?" When Ria didn't reply, he said: "The Ovelians booted him from his forge and installed their own smith. Dragged Stronghammer and his assistants to the palace dungeons. I would rather serve, and stay in the sunlight, wouldn't you?"

Ria looked at her hands and bit her lip. _Noel would know what to do_, she thought vehemently. _Why did you have to leave us?_ She knew why – she really did. She had been sure that taking Elsa to Noel would have made everything all right. Someone else must have messed up, because Noel _never_ made mistakes. The thought of never seeing him again made her heart twist in ways Ria did not like at all.

"What happened to his wife?" Ria asked.

"She's with their eldest boy and his wife." Gunderson resumed hammering the Ovelian breastplate. "I'm surprised your mother didn't tell you."

"I haven't seen her this morning," Ria said.

"Skipping on your chores, are you?" the blacksmith laughed. "You'd best skip back home, or you'll have a beating waiting for you instead of supper."

Ria straightened her back and stared haughtily at Gunderson. "I'm waiting for Jorm."

"It's your hide." Gunderson shrugged.

Ria didn't think that deserved a response. She rested her chin on her fist and watched Gunderson put aside the Ovelian breastplate, then used a pair of long tongs to pull another one out from the white coals in the centre of the forge. Gunderson picked up his hammer and began beating the metal back into shape. He was almost finished with his second breastplate when Jorm emerged from the depths of the forge. Jorm held a pair of worn out fire crystals in his gloved hands. He tossed them into the middle of the forge fire, then turned to look at Ria like he only just noticed she was sitting there.

"Oh, hey, Ria," he said, shifting uncomfortably.

Ria leapt off the anvil and put her hands on her hips. "Are you finished?"

Jorm's eyes flickered between Gunderson and the pile of Ovelian armaments that needed repairs, and Ria knew at once what her friend wanted to do.

"Oi, Olle," she called over Gunderson's hammering. "Is Jorm allowed to go?" She wasn't going to make it easy for Jorm to skive talking with her.

"I need him to work the bellows today, Ria," Gunderson replied without missing a beat.

"You could have mentioned that earlier," Ria grumbled.

"You never asked me, girly." At the look on Ria's face Gunderson laughed and said: "You can have the lad 'till noon, then I'll need him for the rest of the day."

"Thanks," Ria said, grabbing Jorm's arm.

Jorm didn't budge, and Ria felt like she was trying pull a boulder from the ground. _Thick and bull-headed!_

"Are you sure, Master Gunderson?" Jorm asked.

_Master Gunderson?_

Gunderson waved them away. "Off with you. Spend some time with your lass so she'll stop staring swords at me."

Ria felt her cheeks flush, but that was nothing compared to the red that swept over Jorm's face.

"She's not. . ." Jorm began.

"Shut up, you fool," Ria hissed. She tugged at Jorm's arm and finally managed to make the great lummox move away from the forge. Jorm paused only to remove his apron and gloves, draping them on the anvil Ria had been sitting on. Ria felt the thrill of success sweep through her body as she lead Jorm like a mule out of the blacksmithy and down the cobbled road.

Ovelian soldiers patrolled the streets in force, all fully armed with spears and swords. It was worse at night, and had been ever since the battle at the docks when Queen Elsa tried to escape. The soldier's presence didn't stop the townspeople from wandering the streets, though. Taking advantage of the clear, sunny day, Arendellians crowded the marketplaces and shops, haggled over prices, and stopped to talk in the streets. If it wasn't for all the red, Ria would never have known the city was under Ovelian occupation.

"The Ovelian soldiers reached Spoke two nights ago," Jorm said in Ria's ear after an Ovelian patrol walked by.

"I heard," Ria replied. It was small consolation that soldiers probably had a miserable time getting there.

"That's every town in the kingdom now."

Ria had heard that too, but the reminder made her too angry to reply.

"Where are we going?" Jorm asked. "I can't go too far. It's not long 'till noon."

"Since we can't go to The Bold Man anymore, I thought we could meet at Wren's house." Wren was the most gutsy of the group Noel had gathered to play tricks on the Ovelians – aside from herself, of course.

She jumped when Jorm grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side of the street. _He's gotten so strong since he started working at that forge!_ "Idiot! What are you doing?"

Jorm shifted his feet. "I was talking with Wren yesterday."

"Oh?" Ria said, raising an eyebrow dangerously.

"Don't you think we should be quiet for a while?" Jorm said hesitantly.

Ria rounded on him. "Not you too!"

Jorm recoiled, but managed to stand his ground in the face of Ria's glare. "Wren says you've been feeling itchy. Nee agrees, and . . . so do I."

"Itchy?" Ria repeated, taken aback.

"Dangerously itchy," Jorm said with a little more confidence. "They think you're gonna get us caught."

"That's stupid."

"It's not!" Jorm said. "Playing tricks was fun, but it's too dangerous without Noel helping us."

"Is that what _you_ think, or are those cravens speaking through your mouth?"

Jorm drew himself to full height, and Ria realised at once that she had picked at him too hard. "I happen to _agree _with them." Jorm said angrily. "You can't plan things as well as Noel can, and the Redcloaks have promised to start _hanging_ saboteurs now. I don't want to die, Ria, and I don't want _you_ to die either!"

Ria scoffed. "The Ovelians wouldn't hang us. We're too young."

"They cut off the Bishop's head," Jorm countered quicker than Ria had ever heard him before.

"Did you get that line from Wren?"

"Why, because I'm too thick-skulled to think for myself?"

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean then?" Jorm demanded.

Ria was suddenly aware of nosy passerbys turning their heads to look at them. She lowered her voice and stepped that little bit closer so only Jorm could hear. "I thought you _wanted _to stick it to the Ovelians," she said. "I thought that's what we _all_ wanted."

"You know I don't like what they've done to us - what they're doing to Queen Elsa - but what can we _really _do about it, Ria? We tried to help. Now Queen Elsa is worse off than before and Noel is gone." He sighed heavily. "What can we do?"

"We shouldn't be helping them, Jorm!"

Jorm was still. "Are you talking about Master Gunderson?"

"He's mending their armour and shoeing their horseshoes, and you're helping him!" Ria hissed furiously. "It's like everyone's given up."

"What choice does he have?" Jorm replied.

"He didn't have to roll over for them like a cowed dog," Ria muttered.

Jorm stepped back, shaking his head. "Nee and Wren are right about you, you know. Ever since Noel left you've been bristling. If you keep trying to play tricks on the Ovelians, you're gonna get caught and they're gonna take you away."

"You lot have been talking behind my back, have you?" Ria said, offended.

"We just don't want you to do anything stupid."

"Well you don't have to worry about me doing anything stupid," Ria spat, and turned on her heel. "I won't."

"Where are you going?" Jorm started after her.

"Home!" Ria thundered, and left Jorm in her wake.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

The Gunderson smithy burned down a few nights later, as much as a smithy _could _burn down. The stonework was scorched black, but still stood, and it was going to make more than a bit of fire to destroy the forge, but Gunderson's home, and everything that wasn't stone was a pile of ash and destroyed timber come morning.

Ria was called from her bed by shouting down the road. Thick grey smoke drifted in through her bedroom window, wrapping itself around Ria's lungs. Ria was coughing and spluttering on the floor before she realised what it was. She slipped out of her nightdress and wriggled into the tight brown breeches and blue jacket she had taken from Jorm when he grew too tall and broad for them.

"Stay in the house, Ria!" her mother ordered as Ria dashed past.

Ria pretended not to hear.

Doorways were crowded with people watching an Ovelian patrol hoist buckets of water onto the flames, but it was too little, and far too late.

Ria wandered into the street and stood at the edge of the gawking crowd. She spied Gunderson and his pretty northern wife on their knees outside the burning forge. Gunderson had his arm around her shoulders and a tight grip on her arm. Both their faces and arms were smeared with black soot.

"Someone will hang for this," a plump woman who washed linens with Ria's mother said.

"I heard Gunderson forged for the Ovelians," another man said.

"Then he deserves this misfortune." One spat on the cobblestones.

Ria could not help but agree.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

"Did you do it, Ria?"

Jorm appeared in the small garden behind Ria's house one day and ambushed her while she was hanging a bundle of freshly-scrubbed linens in the sunlight.

"Do what?" Ria asked as she pegged a corner and let the sheet hang. "Grab a peg and help me, will you?"

But Jorm did not move. Only then did Ria notice the tension in the way he set his broad-shoulders. She tossed her handful of pegs into the small basket and frowned at him. "What's wrong?"

Jorm lowered his voice to a whisper, and Ria had to strain her ears to hear. "Did you set fire to Master Gunderson's smithy?"

"What?" Ria asked, taken-aback. "No!"

"Promise me, Ria."

"I shouldn't have to, Jorm!" Ria said angrily.

"You were so angry the other day," Jorm said defensively.

"I'm angry right now, but you don't see me hurling burning brands on buildings, do you?!" She jabbed him in the chest with her finger. A brisk pain flared through her hand. "Bloody fuck!" she swore, and held her finger in her other hand.

"What?" Jorm asked, looking infuriatingly innocent.

"Why would you think that I. . ." she turned her back on Jorm and scrubbed at her eyes. "Idiot."

"You were so angry at Master Gunderson and I just thought. . ."

Ria gathered up the basket of laundry. "Go away, Jorm."

"Ria."

"Fuck off."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Nee was a tiny thing. She and Ria had been friends since they could barely walk, and had spent most of their days together since then. She had the softest, silkiest black hair Ria had ever touched. It made Ria sometimes feel self-conscious about her own ruddy locks. Nee's mother was an olive-skinned southern girl. Her father had brought the maiden back with him after the war and took her for his wife. Before the Ovelians came, Nee and her mother had been the only people with black hair Ria had ever seen.

They sat on Ria's sloped rooftop outside the bedroom window, watching the clouds early one afternoon. Ria was dressed in her breeches and long boots, while Nee sat in a square-cut cotton dress.

"Have you and Jorm made up yet?" Nee asked delicately.

"I don't want to see that ox," Ria said stiffly.

"He feels terrible about accusing you," Nee said.

"Been talking about me behind my back again, have you?"

"Oh, don't be like that, Ria!" Nee elbowed her side in a most unladylike manner. Ria rubbed her ribs and scowled at the other girl.

"Like what?" Ria demanded.

"So bitter and . . . ornery. Your face is too pretty to be scowling all the time."

That, of course, made Ria scowl harder. "Give over."

Nee laughed and scooted closer to Ria. "Truthfully, though," Nee said seriously. "Jorm does feel bad. He knows you didn't burn down Olle Gunderson's smithy. He really does!"

Ria's eyes drifted towards the gaping hole where the Gunderson Smithy used to stand. And would stand again, by the looks of things. The wooden framework had already been erected around the fire-surviving stone foundations. If she squinted, she thought she could make out Olle Gunderson on top of the scaffolding, directing the men hammering nails, and piling bricks and hewn stone. The Ovelians were helping rebuild too – without their coin the Gunderson's were desolate.

"If he knew, then why did he accuse me?" Ria asked. Jorm could have been down at the smithy too.

"He just wanted to hear it from your own lips."

"He should have known!"

"Everyone has doubts, Ria. He valued your friendship enough to dispel them as soon as he could. They would have festered otherwise."

Ria didn't know what to say, so instead she cast her eyes back down the road and tried to spot Jorm's awkward frame. She glimpsed red, and her eyes narrowed. An Ovelian patrol turned a corner and started down Ria's street. Ria pressed her lips together and glowered at the approaching soldiers. "Do you think they'll ever leave?"

"The Ovelians?" Nee shrugged. "Some will, when King Maximilian does."

"But do you think _all_ of them will leave one day?"

Nee shook her head. "We're part of Ovelia now. I don't think anyone has the strength to stand up and throw them out – not with Queen Elsa prisoner and Princess Anna vanished into thin air."

As the Ovelian patrol marched by, its captain looked up at the two girls and frowned.

"He's looking at us," Ria whispered.

Nee smiled and waved her fingers at the soldier, unperturbed. "Maybe he wants to take one of us home with him." She giggled.

"You're incorrigible."

"Oh, Ria, have I told you about the soldier with the greenest-eyes I've ever seen? He's young, only a few years older than us."

"An Ovelian soldier?" Ria asked, scandalised.

Nee nodded. "He said that I remind him of home."

Ria looked at Nee's black hair and olived skin and supposed that must be true.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

She heard the news from Nee: "The Ovelians found the ladder on the Bold Man's roof," she whispered in Ria's ear after pulling her aside in the markets one evening. "Jorm told came to my house and told me. He said he went to find you, but you weren't at home."

Jorm lived the closest to the Bold Man. His father drank there most nights and Jorm had to help cart him home. Ria had offered to help one, but Jorm flushed bright red and declined.

"I thought Jorm was getting rid of it?" Ria hissed back.

"He tried, but you know how many soldiers have been swarming around that inn. He never got the chance."

Ria grumbled something, but Nee cut her off. "The soldiers figured out how we were getting around without them noticing. They're searching every house where a person can get onto the roof."

"How do you know that?" Ria demanded.

"Willam told me."

"Who the hell is Willam?"

"The Ovelian soldier I told you about that afternoon on the roof."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"

"I just found out, Ria!"

"Surely they can't search every house with an upstairs window." Ria said, gut suddenly churning.

"Jorm said the Ovelians are only searching the houses that are close to the Bold Man. They'll probably be finished searching before it gets dark."

"Fuck." Ria turned on her heel and walked away from the marketplace. Nee picked up her skirts and half-jogged to keep up.

"It'll be okay, though, right? You got rid of your cloak?"

"I did." She had burned that cloak in the fireplace when her mother was out one morning. "But. . ." _That blasted coin pouch_. C_reator, why did I have to pick that Ovelian's pocket!_

"But what?" Nee asked.

Ria broke into a sprint.

She skidded past the framework for the Gunderson smith and tore up the road, ignoring the eyes that curiously followed.

In the deep orange light, Ria's eyes caught red.

A platoon of Ovelian soldiers stood outside a cluster of houses near the end of the street, right where Ria's house was. She slowed to a walk.

"Are you the little Lady Laund?" one of the soldiers outside of her house said as Ria approached.

_Huh?_ Ria stared at the soldier blankly.

He didn't wait for her to reply. "You have your mother's look. Go on then, sooth her fears."

Her small house was filled with Ovelian soldiers. Ria had imagined that her mother's carefully tended furniture would be overthrown and torn apart in the soldiers' urge to find something, but aside from all the red cloaks and hands on swords, it looked eerily like her mother was just having people over for supper.

"Ria!" her mother exclaimed, and Ria found herself wrapped in a tight embrace.

_Gotta get upstairs, _Ria thought furiously, and wriggled out of her mother's grip. A soldier stood in front of the staircase – an expressionless red statue.

"This is my daughter," Ria's mother said to an Ovelian wearing a tall helmet with red plumes. A badge pinned to his coat marked his as an officer.

"I see," the captain said. "She has your look. Where have you been, girl?"

"At the markets," Ria said. _Gotta get upstairs!_

"I asked her to fetch a fish for dinner tonight," Ria's mother said.

"It seems she's returned home empty-handed," the captain said. "Did you lose your package on the way home?"

"I heard that soldiers were here and came straight home," Ria said without thinking.

"How did you know we were here?" the statue by the door spoke up. His voice sounded like a raspy stone statue too!

Ria opened her mouth uselessly.

"Relax, soldier." The captain waved his hand dismissively. "This is our seventh house today. The entire town surely knows we're here."

_Gotta get past that statue,_ Ria thought. Then, another voice fought for attention. _There are surely soldiers upstairs too. You can't dodge past them too. You're better off running. Disappear into the streets._

"Ser Oakley." A red-cloaked soldier emerged from upstairs and put an end to Ria's planning. "Have a look at this."

Ria imagined leaping across the kitchen table and snatching whatever it was right out of the air, but before she could twitch, the soldier had tossed a ruddy pouch into Ser Oakley's hands.

"I found it in the girl's room."

Ser Oakley raised his eyebrows and peered inside the pouch. "Well. . ." he said after a moment, looking curiously at Ria. "I think Lord Beoulve is going to have some questions for your daughter, Lady Laund."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

The younger Lord Beoulve looked to be in his early-thirties. His brown beard was neatly trimmed and his hair had been combed fashionably to the side. He did not look up as the soldier brought Ria into his office.

"Sit down," he said.

There was only one chair in Lord Beoulve's office, aside from the high-backed cushioned one the Ovelian sat his noble arse in. Ria sat in the chair across from the Ovelian and tried to fight the frightened panic building in her chest.

"Do you know who I am?" Lord Beoulve said.

Ria had heard his name before. "Lord Matrim Beoulve," she said.

"And do you know what my role is?"

Ria shook her head. Matrim's looked up from his letter and seemed to stare through her. "No," said Ria.

"I am in charge of the protection of the Arendellian townspeople."

Ria had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing.

"What is your name, girl?" Matrim asked.

"Ria Laund."

"Laund for Laundress? My men tell me your mother is a washer-woman."

"That's just a coincidence," Ria said out of habit. "Laund was my great-grandfather's name."

"And what did your great-grandfather do?"

"He was a soldier."

"Like your father?"

_ "I . . . yes." How did he know that?_

And you're one of Arendelle's infamous squirrels. It seems the burn for adventure runs thickly in your family line."

The denial was hot on Ria's lips, but before she could speak, Lord Beoulve held up his hand to stop her.

"Do not deny it, girl," he said. "My men would not have brought you here unless they were sure."

Ria set her jaw and leaned backwards in the chair. Matrim Beoulve looked at her appraisingly and laid down his quill. "I am glad to know my men have not forgotten how to give an accurate report." He reached into his coat and pulled out a leather money pouch. He dropped it onto the table in front of Ria. The _clink_ of coins sounded sharply. "Do you recognise this?"

"No," Ria lied.

"Strange. My men tell me they found it under your mattress."

"They must be mistaken."

"Oh? We have already established that they have given me an accurate report. And they seemed very certain that this was found under _your_ mattress. They also described the expression your face took when you saw it in great detail." He smiled. "I happen to know the man whom this pouch belongs to. He claims a squirrel took it from him outside the Bold Man's Inn."

"Perhaps _he_ was mistaken."

Matrim laughed loudly. "_That_ I would be more inclined to believe." He smiled in what Ria assumed was meant to be a reassuring expression. "You must not misunderstand me here. I have no interest in your possession of this pouch, but I am interested in _how_ you came to possess it."

"I told you, I don't recognise that pouch."

"You take so many you cannot identify one from the other?" Matrim raised a groomed eyebrow.

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

"I don't recognise that pouch. I don't know how it got under my bed." Matrim's grin only seemed to widen. _I'm only fooling myself_, Ria thought, and felt a slight flush creep into her ears.

"I can bring the soldier in, if that will help stir your memory," Matrim offered. "For all his faults, I am confident that he will remember the face of the girl who picked his pocket."

"That's . . . not necessary." Ria said.

"As I thought." Matrim smiled in satisfaction. "Like I said, your possession of the pouch does not interest me, but I am most curious about how a fourteen-year-old girl from Arendelle was able to pick the pocket of a king's soldier without him noticing. Your fingers must be extraordinarily swift."

_Noel called it my unnatural talent. _

"Do all of the squirrels possess this skill?" Matrim asked.

"What other squirrels?" Ria said. _Jorm can barely hold a knife and fork without dropping, and Nee is too flirty and flowery to slink by unnoticed. Wren might, but he's too impatient to wait for the best moment._

"I'm told a Coronan named Noel led the squirrels in the days before the storm."

Ria froze and it took her a few moments to remember how to breathe. _How?_

"We found the The Bold Man's Innkeeper three days ago." Matrim said conversationally, answering Ria's question before she even had the opportunity to voice it. "He was very forthcoming with information about the Coronan, although he swore he knew nothing about where the Coronan went, or the squirrels the Coronan recruited. As one of Noel's squirrels, perhaps you could enlighten me?"

"He's gone," Ria said with savage pleasure. "He left the city the night of the storm. You'll never find him!"

Matrim Beoulve nodded. "'Tis as I thought. I expect he chartered a boat in the Southern Isles and is already sailing home." He tapped his chin with the end of his feathered quill. "No matter." Matrim stood and addressed the soldier by the doorway. "Take the Lady Laund outside and send her mother in."

"My mother?" Ria asked.

"Fear not," Matrim said. "You are something of a mystery, Ria Laund. I only wish to converse with the woman who raised you."

The Ovelian soldier took Ria by the shoulder and led her outside. Her mother was waiting outside, with another red-cloaked soldier nearby.

"Ria!" Mary exclaimed. "What have you done, fool girl! I warned you. I told you!"

"It's okay, Ma," Ria said.

"Lord Beoulve wishes to speak with you," the soldier said to Mary, touching her shoulder.

"Me?" Ria's mother said, anger suddenly forgotten.

"So it would seem."

"Oh, all right." Mary smoothed her skirts and shot another furious glance at Ria. The soldier took her into the office and closed the door behind them.

Ria threw herself down on the seat her mother had vacated and crossed her arms beneath her breasts.

_I'm a mystery?_ Ria thought, kicking her heels against the fading carpet. She glared daggers at the Ovelian soldier standing guard. _I should never have stolen that pouch. I should have tossed it away first chance I got! Bloody fool!_

Ria stewed on that thought until the door to Matrim Beoulve's office opened and the soldier guided her mother out.

"Oh, Ria." Her mother had tears in her eyes. She swept towards her daughter and gathered her in her arms. "I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do."

"Ma, what is it?" Ria said into her mother's shoulder. She had expected more shouting, or even a beating in front of all King Maximilian's soldiers. Not . . . this.

The door to Matrim Beoulve's office closed, and the tall Ovelian stepped into the hallway. "King Maximilian's will order his ships to set sail soon," Matrim said.

Ria's stomach dropped._ No!_

"Say your farewells, for when they do you will be coming with us."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

"How many weeks have I been up here?" Elsa asked Ornsten on one of his regular visits to her cell. Why the soldier insisted on visiting her cell was a mystery to Elsa, but she had begun to look forward to his visits. Ornsten was kinder to her than the other Ovelians, and he was the only one who bothered to visit her lonely tower cell. _I don't even remember what this room was used for anymore._

"Approaching four now, my lady," Ornsten replied. He stood next to the narrow slit of window, while she sat cross-legged on the pallet she used for a bed.

"Four weeks," Elsa pondered. "It feels like far more."

"Far less for me," Ornsten said. "Sometimes it only feels like yesterday when. . ." he trailed off uncomfortably, as he did whenever their conversations drifted towards the invasion or Elsa's captivity.

Elsa let the silence hang heavily.

"Did you enjoy the book?" Ornsten nodded at the leather-bound book beside Elsa's pallet.

"Very much," replied Elsa. "It was one of my favourites as a girl."

"What is it about?"

"It's about a girl who is horribly mistreated by her step-mother and step-sisters," Elsa said. "You haven't heard of it before? It's an Ovelian tale."

"Is it?" Ornsten said absently. He was looking out of the window again. "Perhaps I'll read it."

"There are no battles, nor even any violence."

"There is more to life than battles and violence."

Elsa could not help but agree. "There is also a sorceress. A good one, who helps the girl."

"In exchange for?"

"Nought."

Ornsten snorted.

"What?"

"It's nothing," Ornsten assured her. "Is there another book I can bring you?"

"Anything by the same author," Elsa said.

"I'll look in the library this evening," said Ornsten. He paused on his way out the door. "The servants say you have hardly touched your food." His eyes lingered on the square-cut bodice on Elsa's grey dress, where her pale skin was exposed. Her collarbone was crisp and sharp.

"I have not had much of an appetite," said Elsa, truthfully.

"You must eat, Queen Elsa. What good will wasting away do?"

_None,_ Elsa thought. _But food tastes of ash, and the water like salt._ What she did eat, she vomited into the chamberpot.

"I'll speak to the cook."

Ornsten did not return for another four days, and her food remained the same porridge in the mornings and thick stew in the evenings. When Ornsten did return, it was not with a book, but with tidings that refilled Elsa's heart with cold dread.

"The King has commanded we sail on the morrow," he said gently, as if speaking to a frightened child.

"Oh."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Salty spray filled Aedan's nose as he walked onto Talon's wide deck. Only a few sailors manned Maximilian's flagship at this time of night, though it was far from empty. Attracted by the promise of gentle seas and a cloudless, moonlit sky, members of Maximilian's royal guard were lounging in the fresh air, drinking wine while playing at cards or talking quietly. The gentle breeze brought sounds of soldier's carousing from some of the other ships nearby. Aedan could see the candles and torches shining through the night and over the gentle waters.

He quickly spied Ornsten sitting alone near the ship's bow and made a beeline towards him. His friend valued solitude – sometimes above all else. _If he wants solitude, he should have shut himself in an empty cabin,_ thought Aedan with a grin.

"Wine time!" Aedan said loudly. He waved a jug of wine tantalisingly in front of Ornsten's face and clicked the ceramic mugs together with his fingers,

Ornsten looked up and smiled, shaking his head. "I thought you were with Alexia," Ornsten said.

"I was." Aedan set the jug and mugs on the deck and dragged a small barrel away from the others to sit across from Ornsten. "She kicked me out of the cabin. Doing sorceress things, I guess."

"What does that mean?" Ornsten took one of the mugs and let Aedan fill it to the brim with sweet-smelling, crimson wine. He drank a quick mouthful to keep it from spilling.

Aedan shrugged and filled his own cup. "Brewing foul potions, cursing innocent princesses? I don't know."

Ornsten chuckled. "I never imagined she would take you for a lover. She was always whispering in Maximilian's ear."

"Oh, she tried to sink her fangs into him," Aedan replied. "She realised he would only ever have eyes for Emilia."

"She told you that?"

"No, but it was inferred."

"Really?" Ornsten's eyebrow rose. "That sounds like gossip."

"Maybe so." Aedan laughed and drained his cup in a few mouthfuls. "Max is too wary of magic to be seduced by a sorceress, anyhow."

"Perhaps you should take some of that guard."

Aedan refilled his cup. "Alexia's never done any wrong by me."

"You have heard the stories, though?"

"About Alexia?"

"About sorcery."

"Of course I have."

"And they don't bother you?"

"Should they? They're all tales of fools who accepted a witch's gift in exchange for a favour."

"That's not all they're about, Aedan."

"Oh? Enlighten me."

"They're tales of men and women who discovered that a sorceress's gift carries a steep price. Perhaps you should consider what your relationship with Alexia could mean for you."

"I don't intend to strike a bargain with Alexia."

"You're sleeping with her," Ornsten pointed out. "Tometh Ashaela once slept with the sorceress Isolde five-hundred years ago."

"I know the story," Aedan mumbled into his cup.

Ornsten ignored Aedan and continued: "He and his men stumbled upon her bathing in a spring. Tometh was so transfixed by her beauty that he begged to have her for the night. And she agreed. He spent the night in her hut and as they made love, she asked him to whisper things to her while she had him inside of her. In his lust and desire for more of her, Tometh said whatever she wished. The next morning he rode out of the woods and never spoke of it again. He sent men to kill her, of course – perhaps _he_ remembered the old stories once his lust had cooled and he regained his sense. When his men returned to the spot, the hut was empty and the sorceress was long gone.

"Nine months later, Isolde appeared at his castle, heavy with child and demanded _her_ side of the bargain. Tometh Ashaela was forced to cast aside his wife and young son and take Isolde for his wife instead. They married and on that very evening, Isolde bore her child. Thus began the darkest chapter in Ovelia's history until the hundred year war with Corona. Blood drenched the Eagle's nest, thick and black. It took the combined armies of all Ovelia's noble houses to cast the sorceress out and place Tometh Ashaela's firstborn on the High Seat where he belonged."

It was only a small side of the story. It had been one of Aedan's favourites as a boy. "I've struck no deal in exchange for Alexia's affections," he said.

"Perhaps _that_ was inferred."

Aedan shifted on his seat and took a long drink from his mug.

"You hadn't thought of that?" Ornsten drank deeply too.

_No._ "Maybe Alexia just enjoys my company," Aedan retorted.

"Maybe that's true," Ornsten admitted. "Maybe she desires nought from you at all. I am no expert on dealings with sorceresses."

"Isolde was one hundred years old and from bogs south of the Peaks," Aedan said. "The magic there is different. Alexia grew up in the mountains and is only a year or so older than me."

"So she says," Ornsten jabbed.

Aedan fell into a sullen silence, swirling the remains of his wine around the in mug.

"Don't look so glum," Ornsten said. "I only ask that you be aware of what you promise her."

"I haven't promised her a thing." _Have I?_

"That's good, then." Ornsten grinned. "Nothing to worry about."

"I've been thinking a lot about our time in Arendelle," Aedan said quietly.

"What about it?" Ornsten dropped his voice to match.

"It didn't feel . . . right, us being there."

"You had a sword in your chest, remember?" Ornsten said.

"Quite vividly." Aedan scratched the half-healed scar.

"Perhaps that's why," said Ornsten.

Aedan shook his head before Ornsten had finished speaking. "It's just another scar. I don't know, Orns, something has been nagging at me ever since the night Elsa tried to escape. Something wasn't _right._"

"You seemed euphoric afterwards," Ornsten said. "Enough to shake off Rathmore's beating like it was nothing."

"It was hardly nothing."

"But you made it seem like it was. What changed?"

_I remembered Alexia could turn into a walking fire monster, _Aedan hesitated when the thought entered his mind. It only touched upon the truth, and voicing _that_ concern would only reinforce Ornsten's warning about the raven-haired sorceress. And Aedan had heard enough about _that_. "Do you remember what Max was like when we helped him win his throne?"

"Of course."

"He's changed since then."

"So have you. We all have."

"No, I know that, but Maximilian's . . . different."

"He's the king."

"I know!" Aedan sighed in exasperation and tried again. "We had a reason to fight against House Crecedia: Overthrow the rebellious house, win the rightful heir his throne! There wasn't any question about whether it was the best, or right thing to do, because we already _knew_ it was." At the look on Ornsten's face, he paused. "Are you following?"

"Yes." Ornsten nodded, but his expression did not change. He reached for the jug of wine and topped off his mug. "Why did we come to Arendelle? Have you heard?"

"Because a sorceress sat on the throne," Aedan said. "You know that as well as I do."

"I've spoken with Queen Elsa several times over the last month. Did you know?" At Aedan's nod, Ornsten continued: "Do you really think she would rally her people and march them to war? For all her ice and cold bluster, she has a gentle heart."

"Her storm would have routed us the first night were it not for Alexia's magic," Aedan said.

"It was cold, but fire magic or no, I don't think we would have frozen to death in our tents. You went out in that storm, remember, and you did not die or lose your way. That storm was nothing more than an attempt to scare us back home. The girl can summon creatures made snow to fight for her, yet she chose not to. We were never in any danger from Arendelle."

"How long have you been thinking of this?" Aedan asked.

"How long have you?" Ornsten countered.

Aedan hesitated. _It's just Ornsten, you don't need to worry._ "Since we stopped Elsa from escaping the city."

Ornsten nodded. "You feel guilty."

"Not guilty." Aedan shook his head. "Just troubled. You know what it's like?" Aedan snapped his fingers as the _right_ idea finally came to him. "It was almost like he was _afraid_."

"Who was afraid?"

"Max."

"What does Maximilian have to fear?" Ornsten asked.

"He's scared of Elsa," Aedan said, dropping his voice to a whisper. "He fears Alexia too."

"That only makes him a wiser king than some of his ancestors," Ornsten said. He suddenly straightened. "There's your sorceress now."

Alexia's hair hung loosely around her shoulders, framing her pale heart-shaped face. Aedan thought she looked paler than normal, but maybe it was just the moonlight. Her red eyes glowed brightly, standing vividly against the purple rings around her eyes. Aedan shifted over, making enough space for Alexia to sit next to him.

"You look tired," Aedan said. Those purple rings hadn't been around her eyes when he had seen her earlier.

"It's been a long night," Alexia said.

Aedan offered her his cup of wine. She took it in both hands and drank deeply.

"Ornsten and I were talking about the old days," Aedan said.

"The old days?"

"The war with House Crecedia."

"Hardly long enough ago to be considered old," Alexia noted

"We've been telling battle stories," Aedan lied smoothly. Ornsten caught his eye, frowning slightly. Aedan grinned and shrugged. Alexia didn't seem to notice.

"Any particular battle?"

"The Woodlands Campaign," Ornsten said smoothly.

"That's a few years before the war with House Crecedia."

"I'll never forget watching Aedan and Maximilian hold off the Painted Knight as he tried to cut his way towards King Meriden." Ornsten said.

"I'll never forget seeing Rickard Ashaela step in and slay the whoreson." Aedan grinned. "To this day I've never seen a greater duel."

Alexia yawned loudly, covering her mouth with her hand. War stories could bore her easily, which was why Aedan had leapt to that topic. "I'm going to bed," the sorceress announced, standing. She looked over her shoulder and flashed that wicked, purple smile that could make Aedan forget all the warnings about sorceresses he'd ever heard. "Coming, Ornsten?"

Ornsten looked like she had asked him to dive head first into a pit of swamp-snakes. "I – I d-don't. . ." he stammered.

"She's joking, Orns." Aedan laughed, and Alexia did too.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

On the third day, Elsa woke to the cries of seagulls. It reminded her so bitterly of the home she'd never see again she felt angry tears form in her eyes.

Although, for once, she refused to let them fall. She scrubbed at her eyes and washed the salt away with water from the wash bucket her captors allowed her every morning.

"Land!" a sailor's lone shout soon followed.

After that, the deck above Elsa's cabin pounded with activity.

Elsa knelt by her pallet and busied herself by drying her face and hands. She tried to think of Anna, or the way Captain Lennox had made her feel, but her thoughts were as bitter as her tears and always lead her back to the Ovelians.

_Anna's gone because they came to invade,_ she thought. _Ser Lennox is dead because Maximilian's puppet murdered him._

Elsa tore at the towel and bit into it as hard as she could so that the Ovelians outside couldn't hear her scream. When she finished, she was red-faced and breathing heavily. The towel was torn to shreds and patchy with her saliva.

_Knock, knock_.

The door opened without her permission. Elsa knew the knock was only a shallow courtesy.

Ornsten appeared in the doorway. His blond hair had been combed and swept to the side. His armour glistened in the soft candlelight, framed by his red-cloak which streamed towards the wooden floors. He looked like the archetypical hero from song, yet Elsa knew he wasn't here to set her free.

Ornsten took in the strewn-about mess of torn towel and his eyebrows rose so slightly Elsa might have imagined it. "Rough night, my lady?"

Elsa sniffed and gathered herself to her feet. "Are you here to taunt me, Ser Ornsten?"

"Quite the opposite," Ornsten replied. "There is something I want you to see."

"Oh?" Elsa was curious – despite her better judgement. "And what would that be?"

"I cannot describe it, even if I were to try." He held out his arm for Elsa to take. "Just promise me you will not try to leap from the side of the ship."

"You may waylay your fears, Ser. I cannot swim. Though perhaps death by drowning would be preferable to what your king has planned for me." She ignored Ornsten's proffered arm.

"Oh." If Ornsten was flustered, he hid it well. He did not withdraw his arm, however. "I must insist, Queen Elsa."

Elsa stared at his arm for a long second, before stepped forward and taking it in her own. _Surely this will be better than staring at the wall for another day._

Ornsten led her through the ship. Sailors and soldiers stopped in their tracks and drifted to the side to let them walk by. Lantern's hung at regular intervals through the flagship's hallways, guiding them upwards. When they climbed the last set of stairs and emerged into a windowed room, Elsa couldn't help breath in sharply. Sunlight poured through the windows, and the fresh smell of sea and salt filled her nose.

Ornsten guided her towards a wide doorway and opened it, allowing her to walk through.

Cloudless sky stretched on for eternity.

Sailors sprinted across the deck, climbed rigging and hoisted sails, but Elsa paid them no heed – neither did the pockets of soldiers who stood against the ship's railing to watch the rapidly approaching land.

Ornsten found them an empty space at the ship's bow and let go of Elsa's arm.

"I wanted you to see this," Ornsten said, pointing at a speck of white glistening in the distance.

"What is it?" Elsa squinted.

Ornsten only smiled.

As the ship sailed closer, Elsa saw and understood.

It was the largest city Elsa had ever seen – far bigger than Arendelle, which was the closest city Elsa could think of for comparison. An enormous, white-spired palace dominated the city-line. It lay on top of a hill surrounded by a glittering white wall, separating it from the sprawling city below. Even from so far away, Elsa could see a wide, stoned path running from the palace all the way down to the harbour.

"This is Ovelia?" Elsa breathed. With the sun so bright that morning, it was hard for Elsa to keep her eyes on it. "It's so . . . bright."

"It's been called the Palace of Dawn – or the Dawn Palace, the City of Sunlight, White Spires. . ." Ornsten drifted off with the hint that there were many more names for the capital city. "It may not have the natural beauty of Arendelle's fjord, but when the palace catches the sun like this, it's. . ."

"Beautiful," Elsa admitted grudgingly. "Indescribable."

"Exactly." Ornsten grinned.

She pulled her eyes away from Ovelia and watched Talon's captain shout orders at his men. Nobles fortunate enough to be gifted a place on Maximilian's flagship were emerging from beneath deck. As for Maximilian, Elsa saw no sign.

"I'm going to die when this ship docks."

"Don't think of what the future holds," Ornsten said. "For now, you're twenty-two years old – the most beautiful woman on this ship. These sailors will think back one day and consider themselves blessed because they saw Queen Elsa of Arendelle standing here."

"Those . . . those are kind words," Elsa said.

"They are true words," Ornsten assured her.

Elsa bit her lip. Suddenly she couldn't bare to look at the city any longer. "I don't want to die, Ornsten – not like that."

The Ovelian had no words.

Elsa looked down at the sea and imagined throwing herself into the depths. There were tales of mermaids living in the north seas. Maybe she could finally glimpse one before she died.

Ornsten took hold of her arm again. And Elsa knew that for all the pity and kindness he attempted to show her, he would not show her mercy.

She felt sick.

"Please, take me back down," she said.

Iron eyes grabbed her when she turned around. Maximilian had emerged from his cabin and stood with the captain at the ship's helm. Unlike the others, he did not seem concerned with his approaching city. He was groomed to perfection this morning, looking every inch the conquering hero. Ovelia's crown adorned his golden head and sparkled in the sunlight. He held Arendelle's sceptre in his hands. The sailors would think back on this day and remember him too.

Maximilian smiled and looked away.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry for the long delay! Work consumed my life, but it's holidays now and I have more free time than I know what to do with! Lots of little things happened in this chapter. I tried to convey time passing – especially in Ria's sections. Over a month has passed from the first Elsa scene to the last. The last section is my favourite part of all the scenes in this chapter.

Next chapter has one of the major scenes I envisioned when I first started thinking about this story. I'm really excited that I get to write it. We'll be seeing a lot more of Elsa in next chapter.

Thanks to all the people who have reviewed and favourited this story. I like nothing more than knowing that people are enjoying this story. Thanks so much!


	10. Chapter 10: Triumphant Return

Chapter 10

\- Triumphant Return -

* * *

The cage wasn't made of pure gold. That's what the soldier told her when she was brought to the monstrosity.

"It's only paint," the young Ovelian confided. He only looked a year or two younger than Elsa. His armour was polished to pristine perfection, glittering as brightly as the gilding on the cage. Soldiers marched in rank after sparkling rank, directed by their officers and commanders into formation. The long column of soldiers stretched down the white-paved road back towards the ships flying Ovelia's crimson flag.

In the mid-morning sunlight, the cage sparkled like it really was made of gold. _Although it can hardly be called a cage,_ Elsa thought. The encircling bars were wide enough for a large man to walk through without any trouble. The cage was perched on top of a large wagon dusted with straw. A thick pole rose from the centre of the cage, painted gold like the rest of it. It did not take Elsa long to figure out why the Ovelians were unconcerned about her slipping through the bars and disappearing.

The soldier took her through the golden bars and pushed her back against the pole. Ropes were tied tight around her waist and ankles, binding her to the pole.

The soldier suddenly straightened and Elsa watched his face grow pale.

"Leave us," a silvery voice said from behind the pole. Elsa craned her head, but the pole was too large and blocked her sight. "Join your comrades. I shall finish here."

"Captain Bode ordered me to see Queen Elsa bound," the soldier all-but stuttered.

"Do you not think me capable?"

The soldier very quickly shook his head.

"Then go."

The soldier bowed lowly and all but fled through the gaps in the bars.

Warm hands touched hers, and a burning jolt rushed through Elsa's body. The ropes binding her wrists together fell away, but only for a moment. The warm hands jerked Elsa's arms behind the pole and snapped shackles around her wrists.

"A beautiful cage for such a beautiful canary." Maximilian's sorceress slipped around the pole and into Elsa's vision. Her deep purple lips curved into a smile.

"Are you here to mock me?" Elsa demanded icily. She tensed, expecting her golden bracers to flare with heat, but they remained as cold as they had been since the first night at sea.

"Not at all," Alexia said, reaching out to play with one of Elsa's tangled locks. "You should know that I sympathise with you in this."

"You _sympathise_?" Elsa's eyebrows threatened to disappear into her hair. "You _helped_ put me in this cage."

"I feel an odd kinship with you, Elsa," Alexia said. "Women blessed with sorcery are few and far between. In all my years I have only met two others – and they were both obsessed with ideas which made them quite intolerable to be around." Alexia shook her head disappointedly. "I wish we could have met when you were young. How lonely those formative years must have been for you with no one to talk to about your growing powers."

"I consider it a fortune that we did not," Elsa spat.

"Immolation is a terrible way to die," Alexia continued as though Elsa had not spoken. "To see the flesh melt away from someone's bones – there is nothing beautiful, or _right_ in that. They scream, but screams cannot waylay the agony."

The flailing bodies of the soldiers Alexia had murdered in Anna's bedchamber flooded into Elsa's head. She shuddered and tried to focus on anything but the way they had screamed.

"You should consider yourself fortunate you will not experience _that_ pain. You remember Maximilian's grotesque executioner? Of course you do. How could one forget?" Alexia's lips curled in distaste. "He will choke the life from you before the fire purges the magic from your body."

Elsa said nothing, but could not help the stab of fear piercing her heart.

"Are you frightened?"

"No," said Elsa defiantly.

"You can't lie to me, Elsa Arendelle," Alexia said. "If it brings you any comfort before the end, know that one day I may share your fate, but it will not be today. Such is the true curse of those born with magic. The whisperers in Maximilian's ear will attempt to purge me soon, but by then it will be too late."

"Why? Why did you do this to me?" Elsa demanded.

"Me? I did nothing but follow a king's command."

"You've taken everything from me! Tell me why!"

The first bugle horn boomed over the columns, splitting the sky with the call to march. In the distance, Elsa saw the city gates open, welcoming Maximilian and the Ovelian army back into the city proper. The drum-bearers pounded and the bugle horns blew to match.

Alexia leaned in close and kissed Elsa's forehead. "Farewell, Queen Elsa Arendelle."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Queen Emilia Du Von Ovelia was a beautiful woman. Aedan had thought so ever since her father had brought her to Lion's Peak when she was fourteen. Her eyes reminded him of the ocean he had only seen once before, so warmly blue and gleaming with hidden depth. He had been shirking his duties that morning, disappeared from his master's sight to work the training dummies with his wooden sword. He had stopped his furious attack on the straw man to watch the procession ride through the gates. When he first laid eyes on Emilia Ashaela, he could not look away.

She spared him a smile, but did not pay him the same heed. He was only a grubby page-boy, always with dirt on his hands and cheeks splattered with soot from the fireplace. He may have had straw in his hair that morning too, Aedan did not quite remember.

She stayed a month in the castle before departing with her father. In all that time, he had not been able to muster the courage to approach her.

But he remembered her.

As her carriage passed through the city gates and Emilia stepped out into the sunlight, Aedan almost felt like the grubby page-boy from more than a decade ago. Her face was fuller now – indeed, fuller than it had been when they set sail - and her cheeks shone with a healthy glow.

When the Queen's sea-sparkling eyes fell on Aedan, a smile broke out on her face. Aedan grinned back and offered her a low bow.

"Greetings, Aedan," Queen Emilia said warmly, taking his hand in hers. "Don't you look the vision of Ovelia's perfect knight."

Aedan supposed that must be true. He wore his metal breastplate this morning, adorned with golden trim and polished to mirror-like perfection. He had spent more than an hour sharpening and polishing Whisper and his red-jewelled dagger to perfection.

"You may reconsider those words when you see your husband." Aedan squeezed Queen Emilia's fingers. "It's good to see you."

"Maximilian wrote me of your adventures in Arendelle. The bards and playwrights have taken a liking to your duel with Arendelle's champion and your storm-lit ride to recapture the fleeing sorceress." Emilia's eyes sparkled with brilliant amusement. "Is it true you overcame a frost giant at the city gates?"

"So it seems." _A frost giant?_

"That was my favourite account," Emilia said.

"Are the others full of fancies too?"

"None so dramatic. You will have to tell me what _really_ happened after tonight's ceremony."

"It would be an honour, My Lady," said Aedan with a sweeping bow.

Emilia laughed and held out her hand for him to kiss. "Such courtesy! A nobleman will be made of you yet, Ser Aedan."

Aedan offered Queen Emilia his arm. "Maximilian asked me to escort you through the camp. He wished to meet you himself, but. . . ."

Emilia waved his words away. "The king is planning his triumphant entry into the city. I quite understand."

"Would you like to use your carriage?"

The queen shook her head and linked her arm with Aedan's. "The fresh air will do me some good."

"You may reconsider that stance. A strange smell has surrounded the oxen since yesterday afternoon."

"I have every confidence you will lead me on a path _away_ from the oxen. Now quickly, Aedan. I am anxious to see my husband. I have been apart from him for too long."

"As you command, My Queen."

Emilia's escort fell into step behind them, hands on swords, scanning every nook and cranny of the bustling camp for danger. Aedan paid them little attention, instead focusing on his queen. His eyes drifted towards Emilia's stomach, which was fuller than it had been over a month ago.

"Maximilian tells me congratulations are in order," he said.

Emilia looked confused for a moment, before dazzling Aedan, and whoever else fortunate enough to be looking at her in that moment with her white-toothed smile. She touched her belly with her free hand. "Thank you."

"Is everything well?"

"As well as can hoped for," said Emilia. "The physician has me drinking all sorts of tonics to combat the morning sickness, but they do me little good. I'm sick every morning and almost every evening."

"Do you feel ill now?" Aedan asked. "The carriage is still close."

Emilia patted his arm. "Thank you for your concern, but I feel fine."

"You're sure?"

"I am." Then: "I hear congratulations are in order for you too."

"Really, for what? I do not recall falling pregnant."

"You earned your father's name, dolt," Emilia said in the same tone that would have accompanied a knock on the head were they younger.

"Ah, so I did."

"Your humility convinces no one, Ser."

"I am no ser, yet, My Lady," replied Aedan. "Not even a Beoulve."

"But after tonight you will be, and that is enough cause for celebration."

"There is much to celebrate tonight."

"Yet that does not lighten the weight of your deeds. You should feel very proud, as should your father and brothers."

Aedan could have laughed. "I could deliver the entirety of Corona to Maximilian's feet and Matrim would still finds gap to pierce with criticism."

"And your father?" Emilia stopped, pulling him to a halt too.

"I didn't have the chance to speak with him at any length while we were in Arendelle." Queen Emilia only raised a dark, slender eyebrow. "I suppose he must be proud," Aedan admitted. "He would not be granting me his name if not."

Emilia nodded in agreement. "I'm glad you can see that. Lord Beoulve could heap the world's praise on your head and that would not mean a thing if _you_ didn't feel like you deserved it."

"I won a duel and stopped a queen from escaping her captors. If all great deeds came so easily. . ."

"You _don't_ think you deserve your name?" Emilia said incredulously

"I didn't say that."

"Your tone implies an awful lot." Emilia almost looked angry. "You won a _war_, preventing the deaths of thousands of soldiers, and you stopped a _sorceresses_ from escaping the city."

Aedan snorted. "You forgot about the part where I slayed the frost giant."

"Oh, yes. Right. How silly of me." Emilia resumed her easy pace. "Tales of frost giants and bedding sorceress queens aside, I wanted you to know that Garlan is quite proud of you, even if Matrim is not."

"Bedding sorceress queens?" That one did surprise Aedan.

Emilia nodded. "Another popular version. It's interesting how tales can spread, no?"

"The one about the frost giant has more truth to it." Aedan scratched his chin. "Garlan said he was proud?"

"You are his brother, of course he is."

"I'm Matrim's brother too."

"Well, Matrim is sometimes consumed by the giant stick up his backside."

_And there's the mouth like a chamberpot lid. _Aedan grinned widely.

"I understand that _we_ may be siblings soon," added Emilia.

". . . Max told you?" Aedan said, surpised.

"His last letter was rather long and covered a range of topics," Emilia said, smiling fondly. "We've yet to tell Rosalind, but I cannot imagine she will protest the match. I think it is rather fitting betrothal, don't you? Of all the noblemen and peasants in Ovelia, I'm glad it shall be you holding Rosalind's hand."

"Your father agreed?" Aedan raised his eyebrows.

"Father took some convincing, but Max can be very persuasive when he wishes to be."

"What does your brother think?"

Emilia only shook her head. "Rickard can think of nothing but the stick up _his_ backside also."

Considering he's one of the few men in the kingdom who I _know_ can best me in a duel. . ."

"Just ensure you are a good husband to my sister, otherwise you _will_ have Rickard to contend with." The sparkle in Emilia's eyes dulled the veiled threat, and her tinkling laugh broke it completely. "Do not look so serious, Aedan. It will still be many months before you are wed – plenty of time to win Rickard – _and Rosalind_ – over. If you are able to conquer a frost giant in single combat, I am sure you will be able to handle this."

Aedan chewed on this thought, occasionally providing comment on some piece of gossip or news Emilia told him as they talked and walked.

"Maximilian's pavilion is just ahead," said Aedan.

"I see the banners." Emilia absently smoothed her skirts.

Erected in the middle of the army camp on top of the largest hill outside of the city, Maximilian's pavilion was a monstrosity of red canvas adorned with gold griffins. The soldiers on duty fell to one knee as Emilia approached, and remained kneeling until she offered a kind word and invited them to stand.

_They love her, _Aedan thought.

He held open the pavilion's flap for Emilia while she spoke to the two gold-clad knights guarding king. They had fallen to one knee as soon as they saw Emilia approach. She was busy asking old Ser Lambert about his plans for after the ceremony. He answered by saying something about how a knight's duty was never over, or some storybook reply, Aedan wasn't paying much attention. His ears had perked at an old voice inside the pavilion.

"The dias is being completed as we speak," Aedan heard his father's voice rasp from inside. "Lord Flavian is marshalling the City Watch and the sixth legion to keep the peace."

"Together that's more than three thousand men," Maximilian replied. "It seems a bit much."

"It's a long way from the Griffin Gate to the Palace, Sire," Lord Beoulve replied. "Emotions can often run high during events like these."

"You expect a riot?"

"No," Lord Beoulve admitted. "But a knife can oft be hidden by a pressing crowd."

"I see your point," Maximilian replied.

Aedan snorted, and so did Max seconds later.

"Apologies, Aedan," Emilia said, touching his shoulder. "I am ready now."

"There is no need to apologise, My Lady." Aedan lifted the flap a little higher so the queen didn't have to duck her head, and followed Emilia inside.

"Emilia!" Maximilian exclaimed, looking up from large map of Ovelia City.

"My King." Emilia picked up her skirts and curtsied..

In an instant, Maximilian crossed the pavilion and wrapped Emilia in his arms. "Are you well?" Maximilian demanded as he set his queen down. "The child?"

"I am well," Queen Emilia said breathlessly. "_We_ are well. Better now that you have returned."

Maximilian bent his neck and pressed a kiss against his wife's lips. Emilia wrapped her arms around him and returned the kiss with equal passion.

Feeling like he was suddenly intruding on a personal moment, Aedan pushed aside the tent-flap and slipped away.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

"Do not be afraid," an Arendellian nobleman said to Ria.

_Nobleboy, more like,_ she thought. _He doesn't look much older than me._

The nobleboy's hair was pale blond, and he had the same grey eyes many nobles in Arendelle seemed to share. He reminded Ria of one of those awkward birds, whose legs were too long for the rest of its body. _I suppose the rest of him will catch up in a few years. No one looks like a stork forever._

_ "_I'm not afraid," Ria replied - her first lie for that day.

"The Ovelians will not kill us. We are merely hostages to ensure our parents do not rebel. I expect we will be treated quite well."

Ria frowned. "Why would they treat us well? We're prisoners."

"We are still nobly born." the nobleboy looked at her like it was the most obvious answer to the world's most obvious question. "They will surely treat us as is appropriate to our station."

"You sound like you're just trying to convince yourself," Ria pointed out.

That shut the nobleboy up. Those grey eyes of his fell to the ground, watching his

"I'm sorry," Ria said in a fit of guilt. "You're right. Of course they'll treat us well."

The nobleboy's eyes regained some of their confidence. "Who is your father?" the nobleboy asked. "I have not seen you at any gatherings. I would remember."

"My parents aren't noble," Ria said bluntly, then for added effect. "My mother washes white linens."

"Oh?" The nobleboy looked surprised. "Then what do the Ovelians want with _you_?"

_I wish I knew. _Ria wished he didn't say it so bluntly – especially since she had been nice enough to apologise. She ignored the question and once again cast her eyes around the carriage they were locked inside. Her eyes landed on the same nobleboy they always did. He sat at the very front of the carriage, holding his head in his hands – sniffling occasionally. It was the only sound he seemed to make, and he had remained much the same the entire journey. He barely drank and only ate when someone sat next to him and coaxed him. Ria would have just shoved the food down his miserable throat and made him choke it down. "What's wrong with him?" Ria finally asked.

"That's Edmund Yeoman." The blond nobleboy spoke in a deep whisper.

Ria frowned, and looked at the nobleboy. He stared at her like he obviously expected the name to mean something to her.

"Who?"

"Jasper Yeoman's youngest son," the nobleboy said significantly. He sighed at Ria's blank stare. "Surely you've heard of Lord Jasper Yeoman."

"He's Lord of Greywatch, right?"

"_Was_. His eldest son is lord now."

"What happened?"

"The Ovelians murdered him in the streets during the summer storm. Rumour says he tried to help Queen Elsa escape."

"Who's Rumour?"

A fly could have flown into the gap the nobleboy's mouth made. Ria met his stare innocently, until the boy's mouth slowly closed. "You jest," the nobleboy said weakly.

"I do." Ria nodded.

The nobleboy lowered his voice to a breathy whisper and said in Ria's ear. "I heard that Edmund didn't believe his father had died, so the Ovelians took him to the palace gates and showed him his father's rotting head. Edmund threw up all over his shoes. He's been like this ever since, so I hear."

"So you hear," Ria repeated.

A bugle sounded in the distance, and was followed by the heavy pounding of drums.

"It's starting," the nobleboy exclaimed excitedly. He and the other noble children scrambled in their seats to peer through the gapes in the carriage shutters.

Everyone except the sad, small Edmund Yeoman.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

The stablehands adorned Roach with his red and black tabard that morning. It had taken some coaxing for the ill-tempered horse to accept the tabard and the new black-leather saddle, but he had not kicked one of the grooms, so Aedan assumed it wasn't _too_ had on the horse.

Aedan patted Roach's nose before swinging up into the saddle. His half-healed scar stretched and gave a twinge of uncomfortable pain, but Aedan didn't think the tender skin had broken. _I still need to be careful_, he thought in dissatisfaction. He'd have to wait until after the procession to remove his breastplate to check the wound again.

On the other side of Maximilian's golden chariot, Ornsten was mounted on his horse, which bore similar adornments to Roach. His armour and leaf-bladed spear glittered in the mid-morning sun. When he saw Aedan, he shrugged and tipped his spear towards him. If anyone looked the part of Ovelia's perfect knight, Aedan thought it was him. Emilia might have agreed, if she wasn't so fixated on her husband.

_ How many bastards have ridden at a king's side before? _Aedan thought. _No matter, this is your final day of irresponsibly. Enjoy it before the Beoulve name weighs you down._

Aedan grinned.

"Your spear, Ser," little Isaac Ashaela said was suddenly at Aedan's side, handing him a perfect copy of Ornsten's spear. "The king wishes you to hold it in your right hand, pointed heavenwards."

Aedan took the spear and spun it about in his hand. Ornsten carried his in his left hand. "How symmetrical."

"Yes," Isaac Ashaela nodded solemnly before dashing off the perform some other duty.

Aedan looked at Ornsten again and tipped the spear in his direction. This time it was easy to see Ornsten's grin.

A glint caught Aedan's eye.

Maximilian wore his golden crown - the one sparkling with emeralds to bring out the green in the king's eyes. Emilia wore her crown too – Aedan assumed she must have left it in her carriage earlier. Hers was silver, studded with sapphires to bring out the blue in her ocean eyes. Aside from the crowns, the king and queen were dressed to match – both wearing the gold and red of the Du Von royal house.

He guided his queen into the back of the chariot, before climbing up himself and standing beside her. The golden-garbed chariot driver picked up the reins and held them ready. The eight honey horses chosen to pull the chariot whickered and stamped their hooves in anticipation.

Beneath him, Aedan felt Roach do the same.

Maximilian raised his hand and signalled the horn blower at the front of the procession.

The _boom _of the bugle echoed over the procession, followed by the steady beat of the drums. The white-stoned gates the the city split open. Aedan almost thought he could _taste_ the jubilant roars of the crowd.

The hornblower marched through the gates, leading the procession with the triumphant sound of his bugle, closely followed by the drummers and the men of the first legion.

_Here we go_, Aedan thought, grinning and shifting in his saddle.

The man driving the royal chariot flicked his reins and the team of horses started forward. Aedan pressed his heels into Roach's side and matched the chariot's pace. When they passed beneath the white arch, Aedan could not hold the wide smile that broke across his face. Townspeople waved and cheered – waved at Maximilian and his queen, waved at _him_ and Ornsten as they rode passed. Flowers were tossed onto the road before them, and maidens wearing flowered circlets waved and blew kissed. Aedan waved back, raising two fingers from the spear to acknowledge the cheering crowd. Children hung from rooftops, scrambling across the tiles and leaping small gaps to keep pace with Maximilian's chariot.

It was a slow march through the city, but the crowd's enthusiasm only seemed to grow the closer the procession was to the palace.

The dias that was erected by the palace was enormous, easily as tall as the white walls separating the palace from the town. _How long did it take, I wonder? _The road widened, opening into a large courtyard framed by trees and long fountains. The soldiers ahead of the royal procession split as they entered, and formed lines on either side of the dias, protecting it from the crowds.

The drums still beat their steady rhythm.

Aedan spun Roach around at the foot of the dias, acting as a sentinel along with Ornsten and the members of Maximilian's royal guard. Arm linked with Emilia's Maximilian ascended the wooden steps and delivered one final wave to the crowd before sitting on the cushioned chair at the highest point of the platform. The lords who accompanied him in Arendelle sat on either side. Lord Flavian looked as pompous and red-faced as ever, while Rickard Ashaela (who stood for his father) looked like he could have been carved from stone. Emilia whispered something in her brother's ear, and the stone cracked with the ghost of a smile.

Further down the white-stoned street, Aedan could see the golden cage pass through the gates to begin its long trek through the city.

_Now to wait._

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

The soldier guiding the carriage refused to meet Elsa's eye. He picked up the reigns and guided the pair of heavy oxen behind a platoon of red-cloaked soldiers outside the gates to the city. Maximilian and his royal guard had already passed through, as had nearly two full legion of soldiers. Elsa waited, stomach in knots, as the procession trickled towards Ovelia's Griffon gate.

"What are you waiting for?" the carriage driver shouted at the platoon captain ahead.

"Some fools pushed a cart into the street," the platoon captain shouted back. "The Watch is moving it now."

"I hope the fools are being whipped through the streets!" the driver replied.

"They didn't see who did it."

"How could they not see? The entire garrison is on duty!"

The platoon captain shrugged and returned to his men. The carriage driver grumbled and fiddled with the reigns. Elsa looked away as the glare from his armour become too much.

Long minutes stretched on without any movement before the platoon captain ahead raised his arm and signalled his soldiers to march.

"Finally," Elsa heard the carriage driver exclaim to a pair of page boys. "Go on, give the oxen a pull!"

Insects crawled inside Elsa's stomach, and she had to fight the urge to retch. The ropes cruelly cut into her stomach. _I'm so sorry, Anna._

The white stone gates of Ovelia passed overhead and Elsa emerged to the roar of the crowds. Red-cloaked soldiers stood shoulder-to-shoulder on either side of the white-paved street. Each held a large shield and a razor sharp spear to keep pressing crowds away from the procession.

_They could almost be from Arendelle_, Elsa thought. Every eye in the city seemed to be training on her. _There are so many of them._

Suddenly a skinny man with hairy arms wound back his arm and tossed a heavy block of wood into the cage. Elsa saw it coming and tried to move out of the way, forgetting the ropes and shackles binding her to the pole. A pained cry escaped her throat as the block hit her thigh and bounced onto the piles of hay. Unwelcome tears pricked her eyelids. She could already feel the bruise forming on her leg.

The first throw unleashed the floodgates.

Townspeople surged forward to toss more blocks of wood and sticks into the cage. Blood trickled down Elsa's arms, staining her grey dress. Some sticks caught and tore the fabric, but most bounced harmlessly on the carriage around Elsa's bare feet. They were yelling things too – horrible things. Enough to make Elsa's cheeks burn with anger and embarrassment. When the people tried to press forward, the soldiers locked their shields and kept them back.

The Ovelian people did not only throw wood, either. A bark of laughter drifted over the crowds when an overripe tomato splattered against her shoulder.

The drums beat steadily, filling Elsa's ears and almost drowning the crowd's roars.

"Does she look like a sorceress to you? Look at her! She's just a girl!"

Elsa straightened and scanned the crowd. _Did I imagine? _She caught the eye of a man whose hand was raised, ready to fling a long stick into the cage. His eyes widened when Elsa focused on him, and he quickly looked away. His stick dropped to the ground.

_They're afraid of me, _Elsa thought, and her heart broke for them.

Something heavy collided with her temple, and Elsa saw spots dance around her vision. Something wet trickled down her cheek and neck. She looked at her feet and and saw a small stone shimmering wetly with her blood.

"Stop! Leave her be!" the voice cried out again. "She's only a child!"

"She's done nothing to you!" another voice echoed through the drums.

Elsa blinked away tears and tried to ignore the pain in her temple.

_They'll not see me cry._

Elsa raised her chin and stared at the approaching dias. She ignored the people and their shouts, and she ignored the soldiers who kept them back.

_They'll not see me cry, _Elsa thought, with more determination this time.

Sticks and rotten food were still thrown at her, but far less often than they had been when Elsa first entered the city. Each thrown stick was accompanied by such a sharp condemnation, until barely a thing was thrown into the cage. Elsa ignored them, and kept her eyes on the approaching dias.

_He's waiting for me_. She could almost see Maximilian's golden crown and shining armour.

The road opened into a large courtyard. Green trees had been perfectly planted near a pair of long fountains that stretched almost to the palace gate. The road between the fountains was empty, but Ovelian soldiers pressed together on either side.

The carriage slowed to a halt halfway across the courtyard. The carriage driver leapt from the his seat and helped a pair of soldiers unhitch the oxen.

The crowd still cheered and jeered and yelled things, but Elsa ignored them still. She focused on the dias, at the ten gold-clad knights who were Maximilian's Royal Guard who stood with their hands on their sword hilts at the foot of the dias. She looked at the twin soldiers bearing spears wearing winged helmets who blocked passage up the makeshift stairs to where a group of nobles waited.

Maximilian's eyes caught hers.

A woman crowned in silver stood at his side, touching her stomach with one hand. _That must be Queen Emilia, _Elsa thought. Ornsten mentioned that the Ovelian queen had finally fallen pregnant. Elsa could only hope that the child bore its mother's heart and not its father's.

And then silence fell.

It was like a small sigh escaped every lip in the courtyard. The carriage rocked slightly, and Elsa heard sticks crack under a pair of heavy boots as someone stepped into the cage. King Maximilian's executioner wore the same black mask he wore when he cut off Bishop Axel's head in Arendelle. He did not bear his bloodstained cleaver, but he held something long and brown and stained in his hands, wrapped around each fist and pulled tight between them.

_Did Bishop Axel feel like this?_ The thought wandered through her heart-tight fear. The old Bishop had not seemed afraid. _How can someone be so brave when faced with this?_

Rathmore's beady eyes focused on hers. Elsa met his eyes and refused to look away. Rathmore's smile was ugly – yellow and _dreadful_, missing several teeth and any kind of warmth. He unwound the piece of long leather and let it curl to the ground.

"Show her mercy!" The cry rang out in the silence. This time several others carried the call.

"Mercy, My Lord!"

"Mercy!"

_Mercy?_ Elsa thought dully.

Rathmore's feet crunched around the sticks and blocks of wood. He stood behind the pole and waited. At the pinnacle of the dais, Maximilian raised his hand.

Heavy silence eclipsed all shouts for mercy and the opposing screams for her blood.

Maximilian gestured with two fingers, and Elsa felt Rathmore's leather thong curl around her throat.

"Spare her!" The cry broke the sombre silence.

"Let her go!"

Elsa closed her eyes, refusing to let her tears fall.

"Mercy!"

The cries became a chant.

"Mercy; mercy; mercy!"

The thick leather cord suddenly tightened. Elsa tried to gasp desperately for air, but she couldn't breath. Red and black spots danced in front of her vision as her eyes flew open as the pressure made them bulge.

"Mercy; mercy; mercy; mercy, mercy!"

The black spots grew large, blotting out the red. She could feel saliva dripping out of her mouth where it gaped open, searching for breath.

Someone was bent next to Maximilian, whispering furiously in his ear.

"MERCY; MERCY; MERCY; MERCY; MERCY; MERCY; MERCY!"

"MERCY; MERCY; MERCY; MERCY; MERCY; MERCY; MERCY!"

Elsa felt her knees buckle. Only the ropes tying her to the pole and the pressure around her neck kept her upright.

_Beat._

"MERCY; MERCY; MERCY; MERCY; MERCY; MERCY; MERCY!"

_Beat._

_Beat._

_Beat._

_Beat._

Her heart beat furiously. Pounding! Pulsing!

_Beat._

_Beat._

"MERCY; MERCY; MERCY; MERCY; MERCY; MERCY; MERCY!"

Elsa's eyes rolled to the back of her head. She was so dizzy, she could hardly think.

_Beat._

_. . ._

_Beat._

_. . ._

_Beat._

_. . ._

_Anna. . ._

"STOP!" A voice boomed, somehow managing to overpower the chanting cries of the people watching Elsa's execution. Everything went quiet.

Rathmore's grip on the thong loosened and the leather went slack. Elsa sucked air into her lungs, gasping wildly. The soft, abused flesh around her throat ached unlike anything Elsa had ever felt before. Each breath was a trial, but the air was cool and forced the black spots away.

Maximilian's voice rang majestically. "A king without mercy is no true king. I am thankful that you have reminded me of that today." He paused and the entire city seemed to hold its breath. "Queen Elsa of Arendelle was sentenced to die, but for the sake of mercy, she shall live!"

A roaring cheer erupted from the crowd. They were smiling at her, calling for her. Calling her name! Elsa looked at them, eyes dazed and fuzzy. The cheering faces blurred into one. She barely noticed when Ornsten climbed into her golden cage and cut the ropes binding her to the pole.

"Where's the key to her shackles?" he shouted at someone. One arm was wrapped around her waist. It was the only thing stopping her from falling onto the wood.

Ornsten's demand was repeated by another familiar voice. Then: "Break the lock. Get her down."

"The key is coming."

"Fuck the key, use your spear."

"Creator, look at her eyes!"

Elsa fell forward, hands suddenly loose. Ornsten caught her easily in his arms.

Blinking furiously, Elsa wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. They came away wet with tears and blood. Dizziness roared through her head as Ornsten picked her up and carried her through the gaps in the cage. She looked at the dias and felt a chill run through her body.

Maximilian smiled from his place of honour; smiling at the people, smiling at _her_.

Elsa met his eyes - those beautiful green eyes - and saw only fury.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Authors Note: I'm pretty excited to be up to this part of the story. The scenes in this chapter, and in the following ones, were the scenes that I based this whole story around. I'm keen to hear if you guys enjoy them!


	11. Chapter 11: Dimples

Chapter Eleven

\- Dimples -

* * *

Elsa felt like she was floating away.

"Where's the physician?" Ornsten's voice was distant.

"I sent one of the page boys to look," an eerie, lofty voice said.

"She might still die."

"Not unless Rathmore comes back for more."

"Aedan!"

"I'll check his quarters. He's probably halfway through his second jar of whiskey. Orns." The floating momentarily stopped, and Elsa hung in midair. "She's not going to die."

"Just find the physician."

A door banged open; the sound rang in Elsa's ears and made her head throb with pain. Her back met something cushioned and the strong arms cradling her slipped away.

"Can you open your eyes, Elsa?" Ornsten asked her.

"I don't want to," rasped Elsa. _Is that really my voice?_

"I need to see. Please, try."

_Let me sleep. _But she cracked open one eye anyway, although her body roared with protest. She heard Ornsten's breath catch in his throat.

"Do your eyes pain you?" the Ovelian knight asked.

Everywhere seemed to hurt, but her throat felt as though it was on fire. Each swallow sent tight waves of pain cascading through her neck. Elsa opened her other eye and blinked rapidly. Ornsten's face blurred. He was leaning in so close. "No," she whispered – it was all she could manage. "My neck."

"The physician will be here soon," Ornsten promised. "He'll tend to you."

"Everything is so blurred," Elsa tried to say, but her voice cracked and her words faded away. The word began to clear, now that Elsa had her eyes open. Ornsten's face loomed over hers, impossibly close. His skin was pale and his mouth twisted in concern.

"Your eyes . . . they. . ." said Ornsten.

Elsa tried to shake her head, but a fresh wave of dizziness swept through her.

"Try not to move," Ornsten said. "Rest if you can."

"Ornsten. . ." Elsa cast her hand out and found Ornsten's wrist. She blinked until his head stopped moving about. "What's going to happen to me now?"

"I . . . I don't know."

The door crashed open and Aedan strode into the room. Behind him stumbled a tall man with a darkly-lined face. Thick stubble stained his cheeks and jaw, and the stench of fresh alcohol engulfed his clothes. He clutched a half-empty bottle of amber liquid in his hands.

"It's not even midday!" Ornsten exclaimed, standing.

"That's what I said," Aedan agreed, crinkling his nose. "The page found him. He was on his way here already."

The physician frowned as his bloodshot eyes fell on Elsa. "Isn't she supposed to be a corpse?"

"Maximilian spared her life."

"Not a moment too soon, looks like." The physician nearly tripped over the corner of the forest green rug as he made his way to Elsa. Aedan grabbed his arm and held him upright. "I can manage, curse you. I can manage!"

Aedan shook his head in disgust, then turned on the page boy who lingered by the door. "Boy, find the king, tell him where we are." He snapped his fingers before the page could dart away. ". . . And make sure Queen Emilia is with him."

"How am I supposed to do that?" the page requested, looking quite nervous.

"Say that _both_ of them are needed here. Now go!"

"Is that wise?" Ornsten asked when the page had run off. "Perhaps we should wait for Max to calm himself, first."

"Hiding her from the king is a decidedly _unwise_ idea. Whatever Elsa's fate is, it's best it's decided now."

"She looks like she's been run through the mill," the physician noted. He peered into Elsa's eyes. The smell of whiskey was so strong it threatened to overwhelm her.

"It's blood," the physician said.

"We can _see_ it's blood," Aedan said.

"It's been known to happen during hangings when the fall doesn't break the poor bastard's neck." The physician ignored Aedan. "The pressure from being strangled to death makes the blood rush to the eyes. Floods the white and makes a pretty prisoner that little bit less pretty."

"Will it heal?"

"Perhaps."

"You don't know?"

"I've never seen a _corpse's_ blood-filled eyes get better before. I doubt she's likely to become one with these injuries. _You_ were closer to death." He shot a pointed look at Aedan, who shifted his feet. "She can see, and that's what matters." He uncorked his bottle and took a long drought. "Her throat will swell even more than it has, that bruise will likely worsen – she may even be burdened with an ugly scar." The physician raised his bottle, covered Elsa's eyes and tipped a portion of the amber liquid over the gash on her temple.

Elsa screamed a hoarse, guttural scream which only served to throat to groan in protest.

"Oh, relax," the physician said. He pressed a scrap of white linen against the cut and wiped the whiskey away. "Sit her up. I'd do it myself, but I've been drinking and don't trust myself not to vomit over her dress."

Ornsten was tender. He placed a gentle hand under her armpit and another on the small of her back. Elsa's world span. The physician pulled an ugly looking green and grey weed from one of his pockets and crushed it between his palms. The sharp smell of grass mingled with the lofty scent of whiskey.

"This will taste awful, but do try your best to choke it down." Elsa shook her head and tried to move away, but another wave of dizziness passed over her and she nearly fell were it not for Ornsten's hands keeping her steady. The physician pushed bitter herbs past her teeth and into her mouth. Elsa coughed and spluttered, but the physician held her by the jaw and tilted her head back until she swallowed.

"Do you have any wine?" the physician asked Ornsten.

"No."

"Pity. The herb tastes horrible."

"What about your bottle?"

"No, this is for me."

Elsa's eyelids drooped and grew heavy.

"You can lie her back . . . down." The physician's voice faded as Elsa's eyes completely closed. She was asleep before her head even hit the cushions. Perhaps it was a blessing, because she never saw the the door explode open, or the hurricane that rushed inside.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Aedan whirled around, hand instinctively flying to the red-jewelled dagger on his belt. Ornsten did too, although he had the presence of mind not to rush for a weapon. At the sight of the man leading the storm, Aedan moved his hand away from his dagger.

Maximilian still wore his ceremonial armour and crown, although his expression was far from the air of cool calm Aedan remembered from long ago. Rage burned across Maximilian's face, distorting his handsome features into something Aedan couldn't quite recognise. Following in the storm's wake was Queen Emilia, whose face was etched with concern, and a handful of nobles. Lord Flavian's expression could have been the mirror of Maximilian's, but Lord Beoulve and Rickard Ashaela just looked thoughtful. Aedan put all his faith in the Queen, her brother and Lord Beoulve. _We need some calm minds right now._

The physician really couldn't be blamed for deciding to retreat to a lonely corner with his bottle of booze.

"You have overstepped, Ser Ornsten." Maximilian spoke quietly, yet somehow _that_ was more intimidating than his shouts. "She was not yours to take from the cage."

"My Lord, I only did what I thought was right. . ."

"Wait outside." Maximilian dismissed Ornsten with a flick of his hand.

Ornsten inclined his head and moved away from the chaise Elsa was drapped on. His eyes met Aedan's for a brief second – communicating volumes.

Maximilian turned his attention to Aedan when the door closed behind Ornsten. "Have you also taken leave of your senses?"

"One could argue I was born with none," Aedan replied lightly.

"Hold your tongue, Aedan. Now is not the hour for your jests," Maximilian said. "The sorceress has to die. I trust you will not stand in the way."

Aedan glanced at Elsa. Asleep she looked almost peaceful, despite the awful bruise around her neck. _Why is he so afraid?_

"Perhaps we should take some time to consider this . . . development," Lord Beoulve said delicately. "The people. . ."

"Hang the people," Maximilian thundered.

"I'm not sure how well that will go over. It seems they're opposed to public executions today," said Aedan.

"I told you to _hold your tongue!_"

Aedan snapped his mouth shut and felt his teeth grind together.

Maximilian drew his sword with a sharp ring. "If she cannot be killed in public eye, I will execute her behind closed door."

_No!_ Aedan shifted, putting himself between the sleeping Elsa and Maximilian "You can't, Max."

"Get out of my way, Aedan, or you'll receive more than a mere flogging."

"We can't kill her!"

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" Maximilian roared.

"Aedan is right, my love," Emilia laid her hand on Maximilian's shoulder, squeezing softly. "We should discuss this." Maximilian shrugged her arm away.

"You spared her life in front of the crowds," Aedan said. "If you really want her dead you should have let Rathmore finish strangling her."

Maximilian pointed his sword-point at Aedan's chest. "Move aside."

"Max. . ."

Maximilian's face twisted and he walked forward, sword raised. Aedan caught Maximilian's wrists and pushed the sword above their heads. Maximilian's eyes widened, but his jaw set furiously and the veins in his neck strained with effort.

_Creator, I forgot how strong he is. _The thought came and passed quickly. Aedan's half-healed scar ached.

"You dare lay your hands on your king?!" Ser Lambert shouted, drawing his sword.

"I dare to stop him making a mistake," Aedan retorted, voice tight from the effort of keeping Maximilian's sword at bay. Maximilian's face was crimson with desperation. "Think about what will happen if we kill her now. _Think_, Max!"

Maximilian still struggled.

Rickard Ashaela had his hand on his sword hilt, but was yet to draw the blade from it's scabbard. He balanced on the balls of his feet and his entire body reminded Aedan of a cat about to pounce on an unwary mouse. _If he moves, his sword will be through my heart before I can step away._ Lord Flavian hadn't drawn his sword either, but he was as red-faced as his king. Lord Beoulve had not reacted at all, instead he watched the unfolding scene thoughtfully.

"You promised clemency," Emilia put her arms around her husband and tried to draw him back. "The people are celebrating in the streets. If you kill her, they will know you broke your word. They will lose faith, Max."

"Milk-hearted _fools_," Maximilian breathed. His chest rose and fell furiously. Aedan could hear the air whistle through Maximilian's nose His white-fingered grip on his sword loosened, and the blade clattered on the carpets by Aedan's feet. "You're right," Maximilian said. "You're both right." He rubbed his temples and wiped the glistening sweat from his brow. He turned a look on Elsa which could almost be called soft. "I do not know what came over me."

Ser Lambert filled the open gap between Aedan and Maximilian, sword at Aedan's throat. The oiled steel prickled Aedan's tender flesh. "Do not move," the old knight said, when Aedan's hand drifted towards his dagger. "What shall be done with this one, my king?"

"Do not wet your blade," Maximillian said. "Aedan was right to stand in my way." He smiled weakly at Aedan. "Just don't make a habit of it."

For a moment it seemed like Ser Lambert was going to refuse his king, but he was far too loyal a knight for that. Tight, emotionless control wove itself over Ser Lambert's wizened face. He withdrew his sword and shoved it home inside its scabbard.

Aedan released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

"Physician!" Maximilian barked as if noticing the man for the first time. "Is that brandy I spy in your hands?"

"Whisky."

"Even better." Maximilian took the proffered bottle, popped the cork and drank thirstily.

"You are _this_ opposed to Elsa's death?" Lord Beoulve asked Aedan.

Aedan thought for a moment. "No," he said. He looked at Elsa, blissfully unaware of how close her life came to ending for the second time that day. "If her death is so important, I would have ignored the people and continued with the execution. Perhaps they would have been angry, but they would soon forgive, I think."

"In the end they saw a beautiful girl strapped to a pole who faced her death with strength and grace," Lord Beoulve said. "They did not see the sorceress."

"You sound like you _admire_ her, Edward," Lord Flavian commented.

"Would _you_ have gone to your death with so much poise," Lord Beoulve countered. "Most go with kicks and screams and curses."

"Ornsten tells me she had the lion's share of kicks, screams and curses," said Aedan.

"Yet not when _faced_ with death. There is much one can admire in that." He looked at Elsa thoughtfully. "I wonder what other surprises we'll see from this sorceress queen."

"None, I hope." Maximilian handed the bottle back to the physician. The blackness had retreated from Maximilian's eyes. In that moment, he seemed more the man Aedan had fought beside years before. "We do not have time to decide Queen Elsa's fate. There is still much to do." He looked at Aedan significantly.

"I agree," Emilia stepped in, voice radiating strength. "Aedan, perhaps you and Ornsten can take the lady Elsa to one of the rooms on the fifth landing. I believe she will be comfortable there."

"As you command." Aedan nodded.

"The rest of you will attend to me after the feast tonight," Maximilian said. "Come with a solution for this mess, or do not come at all."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Nobles from all corners of Ovelia lined the throne room on either side of the crimson carpet. For every face Aedan recognised, there were fifteen he did not. But they all knew who he was, and if they did not, they would soon find out.

History had a tendency to remember the bastards who earned their names.

Aedan's clothes were heavy and thickly warm for summer. He still wore his armour, but his sword and dagger had been left in his chambers – as tradition ordered. He felt naked without his dagger attached belt, or Whisper's silver weight at his side. He wasn't going into battle, but his still tightened with familiar nerves.

Ornsten clapped his on the shoulder, grinning widely. He had been smiling ever since they took Elsa to her new quarters hours before. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." He breathed deeply through his nose and managed a grin.

Two knights from Maximilian's royal guard flanked him on either side.

"Go on, then," said Ornsten. "They're waiting for you."

Aedan took another deep, nerve-filled breath and stepped onto the red carpet. The knights kept pace with him, guiding him as they walked towards the throne.

The walk seemed impossibly long. He didn't know what to do with his arms without his sword hilt to rest his palm on. _Stop thinking!_

Maximilian stood before the throne, watching the small procession expressionlessly.

At the steps, the knights stopped and stepped to the side. Aedan ascended the first step and bent to one knee. One arm draped over his knee, while the other touched the ground with a closed fist.

"Who are you to kneel before the throne?" Maximilian asked, voice echoing through the chamber.

"Before you kneels the soldier Aedan – yet without a name," Queen Emilia said on Aedan's behalf. Her voice rang just as majestically as her husband's. "Thirdborn son of Edward Beoulve, the Lord of Lion's Peak and Defender of the Eastern Edge."

_How long have I waited for this?_

"What noble deeds has this man performed to prove himself worthy of the name Beoulve?" Maximilian asked.

"At the age of sixteen, he fought beside Maximilian Du Von Ovelia to defend King Meriden Du Von Ovelia from the outlaw known as the Painted Knight," Emilia said. "At twenty, he served King Maximilian Du Von Ovelia loyally, with honour and dedication during during the war that gripped this land. He distinguished himself by slaying Lord Roderick Crecedia's eldest son during the siege of Crecedia castle.

"Most recently, he slayed Arendelle's champion in single combat, bringing a swift conclusion to the war. He later prevented the Arendelle's sorceress queen from escaping the city."

"Do you believe this man deserves the honour of legitimisation?"

"I do." Queen Emilia smiled.

Maximilian turned his head towards Lord Beoulve. "Lord Edward Beoulve, do you confirm that this man is your son?"

"From this day, until beyond my last, I do." Lord Beoulve said. "He is my son."

Aedan's heart swelled.

Maximilian drew his sword and laid the bare blade on Aedan's right shoulder. "I, Maximilian Du Von Ovelia, King of Ovelia and the Southern Lands, name you Ser Aedan Beoulve, third trueborn son of Lord Edward Beoulve, Lord of Lion's Peak." Maximilian tapped Aedan's shoulder with his sword, the the other. A wave of euphoria rushed through Aedan's body. "Rise."

Aedan rose.

A servant rushed forward and handed Lord Beoulve a crimson cloak adorned with the white lion of House Beoulve. Lord Beoulve shook it open and draped it around Aedan's shoulder. Aedan smiled at his father and was blessed with a smile in return.

He turned to face the crowd of nobles and a rush of applause came to meet him.

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

For the first time in his life, Aedan was seated at the royal table with his father only a few seats away. His father was in deep conversation with Queen Emilia. Their heads were bent closely and they spoke in bare whispers. If Lord Beoulve was a younger man, it could have even been called intimate. Maximilian sat on Emilia's other side, nursing a cup of wine and surveying the throng of dancing nobles with little interest.

"It's strange having you here with us," Garlan Beoulve said from Aedan's right elbow. Lord Beoulve's second son wore his beard neatly trimmed, but his most distinguishing feature was a long, flowing moustache he liked to keep curled towards the ceiling. He had been working on that moustache for as long as Aedan could remember.

"Wonderfully strange," Garlan's wife Lady Odette assured him from Garlan's other side. She held a sleepy child on her lap, who rubbed his red-eyes with chubby fists. "It feels like the missing piece of a puzzle has finally been found."

"That's very kind," Aedan said, smiling woodenly. _I've always been here._

"Verily," Garlan said. "Elissa will be ecstatic when she finds out. She's wanted you to be part of the family for so long."

"How is she?"

"Well - last I heard. She wanted to be here, but mother decided to stay in Lion's Peak. Elissa had to stay with her."

"I bet she was happy about that."

Garlan snorted. "You should write to her – tell her the news."

"I may at that."

"Unless you decide to come back with us. You could tell her in person."

_Tempting. _"I'll give it some thought."

"Please do," Garlan said.

"Ser Aedan?"

Aedan looked over his shoulder and was greeted by a pretty sight. Rosalind Ashaela's dress was pale yellow, but it was her dimpled smile which reminded Aedan of the sun. Her hair was lighter than her sister's, shining like spun gold on a white day. It tumbled down in streaks of warm reddish rues and butterscotch, warming her pale face rather than washing it out. Spots of colour flashed above her dimples as Aedan regarded her, but she only smiled wider and said: "I believe your arm rests on my chair."

"Yes. . ." Aedan replied. Rosalind arched an eyebrow, spurring Aedan. "Apologies." He stood, pulled out Rosalind's chair for her and waited for the blonde to sit down.

"Thank you, Ser," she said graciously. When Aedan took his seat, he caught his brother's eye. Garlan winked and turned his attention to his wife. Rosalind took a moment to settle her skirts, before regarding Aedan expectantly. "I wanted to offer you my congratulations. I have enjoyed hearing tales of your adventures in Arendelle. Your legitimisation was well deserved."

"Not all the stories are true," Aedan replied, thinking of his conversation with the queen that morning.

"I assumed not – only children still believe in frost giants and rock trolls." Rosalind's eyes sparkled. "But when the bards sing of your near-fatal duel and the storm-lit ride . . . it sounded magical."

"Sometimes it was." Alexia's fire-consumed body flared in his mind. His throat felt parched.

"Perhaps you can tell me the story in detail some day."

"I would be delighted to." Aedan smiled and filled his cup with the jug of cool water. "Would you care for some?"

"No, thank you," said Rosalind. She scanned the ballroom almost wistfully. Her eyes lingered on the lines of dancers before they drifted back to Aedan. A small smile created dimples when she saw him watching. "It has been a lovely night, don't you think?"

Aedan could sit still no longer. "Would you care to dance, Lady Rosalind?" he asked, proffering his hand.

Rosalind's eyebrows rose in surprise, but she quickly concealed the emotion with a wide smile. "I would be delighted." Her hand slipped inside his. Aedan pulled her from her chair and led her towards the ballroom floor. With a pleased grin, she swung into his arms as if that's where she had always belonged, and together they entered the fray.

"You move very well," Rosalind complimented.

"Thank you. My instructor told me that dancing is much like swordplay."

"It's all about smooth movements and careful footwork," Rosalind finished for him.

"You were told that too?"

Rosalind laughed. "That's what the squires are told when they are too reluctant to learn."

"So it's a lie?"

"Did you swordplay improve?" Rosalind shrugged her slim shoulders.

"It did."

"Then it must not be a lie."

Their conversation remained simple as the song ended and the musicians struck up another. "Ah, I'm much more familiar with this song," Aedan said.

"Then I hope to be dazzled." Rosalind swept a stray lock of hair away from her eyes. The women lined up on one side of the ballroom, while the men stood on the other. Rosalind's eyes never left his.

The music rose, slowly at first. The couples stepped in time with the music, walking forward until they were in front of their partner. Aedan offered his arm, and Rosalind laid her open palm on his forearm. They circled each other, golden brown eyes linked to the sky. The music dipped. Aedan drew Rosalind forward. Her hand slid up to his shoulder, and his hand touched the small of his back. Their free hands finally met, fingers touching so gently like the softest whisper.

Rosalind was an excellent dancer, far better than Aedan's skill allowed. Leadership passed between them fluidly. Rosalind's hands guided him to the correct step when a shiver of hesitance slid through his hand. She didn't seem to mind, however. Her cheeks flushed with pleasure, and her dimples flashed with every step. Aedan relaxed as the song progressed and allowed his smile to join Rosalind's.

"Now that you have returned to us, what are your plans?"

"Plans?" Aedan frowned and resisted the urge to look at his feet. Talking and dancing had never been his skill. He spun Rosalind around as the crescendo rose. She was taken by a noble Aedan did not know, while he took who he thought was one of Lord Valette's younger girls – the man had so many children it was easy to lose count. He did not have time to ask. The music rose again and Rosalind spun back into his arms with a laughing smile.

"Yes, plans," she said, as smoothly as if they'd never parted.

"When I was younger I always wanted to be a knight."

"What about now?" Rosalind's leg so close to his they touched. Aedan tightened his grip on her waist and guided her around. The other dancers mirrored the move.

"Hmm?"

"You said you wanted to be a knight when you were _younger_. You have achieved that goal and far more. What ambition holds you now?"

Aedan was momentarily stumped. Rosalind's perfume stroked his nose and wrapped him in its heady scent. She smelled like strawberries and soft white flowers. _Ambition? _"I wish only to serve the crown."

Rosalind nodded as if that was the answer she expected all along. Her thumb drifted across his finger. "That's very noble of you, but there must be something more. Will you find a noble wife?"

"If there is a woman unlucky enough to have me."

Rosalind laughed. The sound was so lush and infectious Aedan could not help but grin. "You are being modest, Ser. Any woman would be lucky to have you."

"I am not interested in just _any_ man," Rosalind said, throwing the comment out as though it meant nothing. "I want an _adventure."_

"Oh? What kind of adventure?"

"The kind that lasts a lifetime." Rosalind's eyes flared with fiery red light.

_I'm not finished with you yet._

Aedan drew Rosalind to a stop in the centre of the dance floor. Couples whirled around them, gliding out of the way. Aedan ignored the glares thrown at him.

"Are you well?" Rosalind asked. "Your face has gone pale."

_ Her eyes. . . _The red was gone – drifted away in a sea of clear turquoise. Aedan blinked and tried his best to summon a smile. He was standing so close to her, hand still on her waist with their fingers entwined. _I must be imagining things._

"Ser Aedan?"

Aedan blinked and summoned his most charming smile. "Yes, I am well – though I think I would like some air."

"Oh." Rosalind sounded disappointed, though she quickly covered it with her smile. "Yes, it has become quite hot, has it not?"

"It has," Aedan agreed. _You're going to marry this woman. Try to make an effort. _"Would you care to walk the gardens with me?"

Those wonderful dimples flashed. "I would be delighted."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Emilia's hands were clammy with sweat. She had already prepared her excuse if her husband took her hand – gone over it inside her head so many times it could have easily passed for the truth. _It's only the baby. Don't worry, Max. I feel fine._

But Maximilian proved distracted, as he had been all day, and did not reach for her hand.

She drew him to a halt outside the heavy door leading into the War Room and looked into his brilliant eyes. Ser Ashby – Maximilian's silent shadow for tonight – stopped a few paces behind them. She could hear the hushed chatter of voices from beyond. The question hesitated on her lips. "Are you well?" she said.

"I am," Maximilian said. He smiled at her and needlessly tucked loose strands of her hair behind her ear. It was still a sweet gesture. "I'll be better once this foul business is done." He touched her hand and a slow frown spread across his face. "Are you well?"

Emilia wiped her palms on her skirts. "It's only the baby. Don't worry, Max. I feel fine." She smiled a perfect, reassuring smile.

"You're not nervous?"

_How well you know me. _Her stomach twisted uncomfortably, and that had nothing to do with the baby. "Not at all," she lied.

"You do not have to enter with me."

"I wish to be by your side." The soft smile Maximilian only ever gave to her flashed, and Emilia knew she had won. _I hope you remain this calm and reasonable._

The nobles of Maximilian's council were already gathered. Lord Beoulve and his eldest son Matrim talked quietly with Rickard at the long table covered with maps. A large map of Arendelle was prominently placed in the centre of the table, although there were several different versions of the eastern woods and tablelands where the Beoulve's made their home on the border with Corona. Lord Flavian stood by the fireplace, drinking wine with the Lords Bastion and Valette. The little lord was dwarfed by his peers – especially Lord Valette, who was one of the tallest men Emilia had ever seen. They all rose when Maximilian walked in and took his place at the head of the table. Emilia sat beside him and watched the nobles expectantly.

_All right, Lord Beoulve. Let's see if your plan takes root._

"Tell me of the feeling around the city," Maximilian asked to no one in particular.

Lord Bastion cleared his throat. "It seems. . ."

The War Room door creaked open and Aedan slipped inside. He started at the sight of the lords already gathered around the table, but his airs swiftly slipped back into place. _Good,_ Emilia thought. _This will be much easier with you here._

"Apologies," Aedan said. "I was in the gardens and saw a baby bird fallen from its nest, I. . ."

_That wouldn't be a reference to my sister, would it?_ Emilia arched an eyebrow.

"You have no right to be here," Matrim said, jaw clenching.

"I have as much right as you," Aedan retorted. "I have a shiny new name. I think it's the same as yours."

Matrim's face turned crimson.

"Your son, Lord Beoulve," Maximilian said before further argument broke. "Your decision."

"You can stay." Lord Beoulve raised his hand dismissively.

Aedan grinned at Matrim and took a seat beside Lord Bastion.

_Taunting a lion is never wise,_ thought Emilia. _Perhaps I should speak to the bold baby lion before he's bitten._

"It seems," Lord Bastion continued, "that Queen Elsa has been made into something of a heroine by the smallfolk."

"They didn't seem to think so when they were tossing sticks for her pyre," Rickard said. "What changed?"

"Nothing _changed_," Flavian said.

"_Something_ did. People don't cry for someone's blood one minute, then beg for that person's life the next. What changed?"

"They saw her," Aedan offered.

_Agreed,_ thought Emilia.

"They thought they were going to see a sorceress, but instead they saw a girl – bound and chained to a pole, bleeding and bruised. How many of you would go to your death with as much grace and poise as she did?" Aedan let the question hang. "I wouldn't have." He touched the place where Ser Lennox's sword bit into his flesh. "I _didn't_. She won the hearts of the smallfolk, and she didn't even try."

"You've thought about this," Maixmilian noted.

"You asked as to."

"Queen Elsa needs to die," Maximilian said. "Have you come with a solution for _that_ problem?"

Aedan's mouth opened and closed silently. He shook his head.

"The solution is simple," Lord Flavian said. His cheeks were flushed with too much wine. "A dagger will rid us of the sorceress. The people need not know what happened to her."

"I think killing Elsa so soon after sparing her life is most unwise," Rickard said. "No matter how well we hide her death, the people will talk. They'll wonder what happened to the queen their cries for mercy saved. How long before rumours spread beyond the palace walls?"

"Bah, rumours are nothing," said Flavian dismissively

"Even false rumours can carry significant weight." Rickard addressed Maximilian. "Her magic is still bound?"

Maximilian nodded. "It is."

"Then perhaps we could give her to the Church to live out her days in servitude? It would do much to repair the damage caused by that Arendellian Bishop's execution."

"They will not take her against her will," Lord Beoulve said.

"If she causes trouble then we'll quiet her with one of Flavian's silent knives." Rickard shrugged. "We could even spread the rumour that the knife belonged to one of King Frederick's bandits."

"I do not think the Church will turn her away," Lord Valette said. "After a few months the people will have forgotten about her. If, then, she must die still, let it be with a drop of poison late at night.

Lord Beoulve caught Emilia's eye. Emilia swallowed and breathed deeply. "Lord Beoulve," Emilia said. "You have a suggestion?"

The room went quiet as Lord Beoulve scratched his chin. "How old is Queen Elsa?"

"Twenty-two," Lord Flavian replied.

"Young."

"I was younger when I became king," Maximilian said.

"Actually you were the same age," Aedan pointed. "Elsa was crowned last year. She was twenty-one – same as you."

Maximilian was quiet.

"Why didn't she marry?" Lord Beoulve asked. "Do we know?"

"Only fools line up to marry sorceresses," said Flavian.

"But hundreds come for the chance to marry a _queen, _no matter what else she may be. The question remains."

"Our spies never found out," said Maximilian. "It wasn't an important question. There were much better ones, like: how many men can Arendelle field, and just _how powerful_ is Elsa's sorcery."

"What does Elsa's marital status have to do with this discussion?" Flavian asked.

"When Maximilian became queen, he found a loving wife to rule with him." Lord Beoulve inclined his head respectfully to Emilia. "Why don't we find Queen Elsa a loving husband?"

"We're talking about the best way to _kill_ her."

"I thought we were talking about the best solution to our current problem," Lord Beoulve retorted. "It doesn't have to end in murder. If Elsa marries an Ovelian lord and falls pregnant, that child will be heir to Arendelle's throne."

"It also removes our need for Princess Anna." Rickard Ashaela regarded Lord Beoulve thoughtfully. "Very clever, Lord Beoulve."

_Very clever indeed._

Lord Beoulve inclined his head. "Despite out best efforts, Princess Anna has avoided capture. It's too much to hope that she has escaped to Corona."

"Our spies in Corona have reported nothing," Flavian said.

"Spies can be bought. They can also be mislead. I'll only be satisfied when Anna is safely in our hands, or if we find her frozen corpse in the snow. Until that day, we _must_ assume that she has joined King Frederick in his plotting. If we execute Elsa, we have effectively delivered Arendelle's last legitimate heir into Corona's hands."

"_I_ hold Arendelle," Maximilian said firmly. "No one else."

"Respectfully, My King, until a _worthy_ heir sits on Arendelle's throne, the people will _never_ accept our presence. The blood of Ovelia _must_ mix with the blood of Arendelle if we are to rule."

Maximilian's hand shook under the table. Emilia reached out and clasped it in both of hers. "It's okay, my love," she whispered in his ear, softly enough so the others could not hear.

"The sorceress must die," Maximilian repeated stubbornly.

"And she will," Lord Beoulve assured him. "But _after_ she bears a child. If a year passes and Elsa does not fall pregnant - or if she causes us more trouble, then send Flavian's knives or Valette's poisons to finish what Rathmore started. Though I imagine a strong husband should prevent trouble easily enough."

"Do you have a potential husband in mind?" Emilia asked. Her palms seemed _soaked. How does Maximilian not notice?_

"I have, in fact." Lord Beoulve looked down the table until his eyes fell on his youngest son.

Emilia could have cut the heavy silence with a knife. She suppressed a smile. _How interesting. _It was easy to see how people thought Aedan was arrogant. He worked so hard to maintain the shield of easy confidence and comfort that made him seem like he would have been just as comfortable somewhere else as he was here. It hid his blubbering mess of anger and insecurity so well. Lord Beoulve's look and the weight of his words behind it made Aedan's shield slip. His smirk vanished in smoke, and his bored masquerade was destroyed. Emilia glimpsed the real Aedan, and he looked terrified. _Rouse your shield, Aedan. Do not appear weak now._

"Me?" Aedan sounded panicked. "I can't marry her!"

"The people love you, Aedan. Songs of your adventures are being sung in every tavern in the city. They love Elsa too. They don't beg for mercy for another unless _something_ captured their hearts, and they saw you pull Elsa from her cage."

"Ornsten pulled her from the cage – not me! If someone is to marry Elsa then it should be _him_."

"You wore the same armour, bore the same spear, but most importantly the _same helm_. _I_ could hardly tell you two apart." Lord Beoulve inhaled deeply coughed into his fist.

"Ornsten is a popular soldier, 'tis true, but he does not have your name," Emilia added while Lord Beoulve recovered. "Without a noble name, we may as well pair her with a peasant for all the good the marriage will do us."

"And Queen Emilia tells me that whispers of a relationship between you and Elsa already fill the smallfolk's ears. It would take very little to fan those flames with tales of your love for the girl." Lord Beoulve dabbed the corner of his mouth with a folded kerchief.

"There must be someone else, surely?" Aedan looked around the table desperately.

"Another Du Von _would_ be best," Lord Beoulve admitted, with a glance at Maximilian.

"'Tis unfortunate then my brothers are dead," Maximilian said coldly. Emilia squeezed his hand.

"Perhaps a cousin?"

"No."

"My son could serve," Lord Flavian said.

"Which one?" Emilia asked.

"Norrie."

Lord Beoulve was already shaking his head. "Norrie is not yet thirteen, and your elder four are already married."

"Brade is yet to have children with his wife."

"No. Divorce will not do. We need a _man_ who is _unattached_. I have thought about this, and Aedan is the best choice. I can think of no one better."

Flavian's face darkened as he settled back into his chair.

"As noble as Brade is, he was not at Arendelle. The people will not believe a tale of romance between the two." Emilia stroked Max's hand with her thumb. "That alone rules out many potential husbands."

"But they'll believe a tale of romance involving me?" Aedan said incredulously.

"Some already do."

"Haven't we done enough to her?" Aedan asked, shaking his head. "It would be kinder to kill her and be done with this farce."

_He's breaking. _Emilia leaned forward and caught Aedan's eyes. _"_Do you really believe that? You would sentence her to death to avoid her hand in marriage?"

Aedan's mouth gaped open. Emilia didn't know how to describe the the look that passed over his face. "You intend to murder her regardless." He looked at Maximilian. "Please, Max, don't make me do this."

_Broken._ Emilia sat back and looked at her husband. She knew the look on his face as well as she knew his finger's touch. Her stomach flooded with hope and excitement drowned her nerves. _Push him, Max._

"Your idea has merit, Lord Beoulve," Maximilian said. "Does anyone object?"

The other nobles exchanged glances. Lord Flavian looked like he was ready to speak, but a hard glance from Rickard silenced him.

"It certainly _seems_ to solve our problems," Rickard said. The lords Valette and Bastion nodded in agreement.

"Then it is settled." Maximilian rose. "You will do your duty, Aedan, as we all must. Lord Beoulve, I trust you to handle the necessary arrangements?"

Lord Beoulve bowed. "On my honour, My King."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

Author's Note: Lana Del Rey's voice is very attractive. As is her face.

I'm on the fence about this chapter. It does what it needs to, but I'm not certain about _how_ well it actually does it. I'll let you guys be the judge.

I _think_ next chapter will be fairly long. I'll hopefully have it up in a week. Stay tuned.

Also, if you've been enjoying this you should check out my new Frozen fic: _Cursed_. The chapters are much shorter, so it's a pretty easy read.


	12. Chapter 12: Forever More

Chapter 12

\- Forever More -

* * *

"And again." Garlan's voice was distant.

Aedan grunted and spat out a mouthful of sand. His heart throbbed between his ears, ringing with the strike that had knocked him to the ground. The dull crack of wooden weapons colliding echoed. Many of King Maximilian's knights and soldiers took to the mile-by-mile stretch of ground inside the palace walls to practice their swordplay. White sand was carted through the city every week, and a platoon of soldiers would take to the sands with wooden rakes to smooth the surface every evening.

"You keep lowering your guard," Ornsten said.

_I'm well aware_. Spitting again, Aedan staggered to his feet and retrieved his practise sword. It was heavier than Whisper's slender blade – heavier than any sword Aedan had ever taken to battle. Garlan had taken one look at Aedan's body that morning and claimed that he had lost too much of his weight while injured in Arendelle.

And too much of his skill with a sword too, apparently.

"Try to avoid his pretty face, Ornsten," Garlan laughed. "We don't want him black and bruised on his happy day."

Ornsten managed a slight grin too.

"Why?" Aedan said. "The bruises will match the ones on my pretty bride."

That wiped the smile from Ornsten's face, but Garlan's could not be budged. "Run the forms again," Garlan said. "And pay no attention to my brother's attitude, Ornsten. He's just scared."

Ornsten came at him quickly, moments after Aedan moved his practise sword into form. He deflected Ornsten's pass at his knees easily enough and the weight of the practise blade knocked the spear away.

Ornsten's feet slid forward, kicking up sand. He brought the weight of his practise spear around and sent Aedan sprawling.

"I'm not scared!" Aedan said (moaned).

"Then why do you look as pale as the Night's Queen's ghost?" Garlan gripped Aedan's arm and hauled him to his feet. "We _can_ understand, you know. In a few days you're going to be Queen Elsa's prince-consort. It's a big responsibility."

Aedan shrugged his brother's hand away.

"Fine, deny away. Maybe Ornsten can drum some courage into you. Try the overhand grip this time. Keep the sword high and strike down."

"Overhand will leave my legs exposed," Aedan protested.

"Not a problem if you move your feet. Again!"

Aedan raised the practise sword above his head with both hands, point raised to the sky. He stepped forward cautiously, feet crunching on the sand.

Padded spear tip flashing, Ornsten aimed a probing jab at Aedan's chest. Aedan slapped it down, using the sword's weight to power his stroke. Ornsten's brow furrowed as he stepped forward and pressed the spear into the gap between Aedan's legs.

He tried to step away, but Ornsten but the spear's wooden wing caught his ankle and yanked it forward. Off balance, Aedan pivoted and turned the fall into a clumsy roll.

Ornsten was spinning. Rising swiftly, Aedan darted forward.

The spear tapped his half-healed scar, and Aedan doubled over in pain. Ornsten spun again and smashed the spear into Aedan's ankles.

The practise sword went flying and Aedan tasted sand again.

"You're not going to become as good as Rickard Ashaela like that. I'm told he bested _three_ knights at once yesterday morning." Garlan chuckled. "The king's champion – humbled in the dirt."

"I told you overhand would leave my legs exposed!" Aedan rubbed his scar.

"Ornsten didn't bring you down with a strike at your legs. You were finished as soon as you let that spear touch your wound."

"I didn't _let_ him." Aedan sat up and blinked sand out of his eyes. The look that passed between Ornsten and Garlan made frustration burn thickly in Aedan's chest.

"Overhand grip makes that scar was a big shiny target."

"Y-you _told_ me to!" Aedan spluttered.

"_You_ should have known better." Garlan retrieved Aedan's sword and tossed it back to him. "Now get your head out of Elsa's skirts and try again."

Aedan tossed the sword into the sand. "Give over, Garlan."

"Where are you going?" Garlan called after him.

"To see the only person in this _damned_ city who _doesn't_ know about my wedding!"

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

"And again." Madam Sophia's voice was husky and warm. Elsa might have liked her, if the woman wasn't so obviously . . . Ovelian.

Elsa lifted her arms and let a raven-haired maidservant measure the length of her arms with a length of string. Another maidservant, this one with chestnut hair, measured the width of her hips with a similar length of knotted strong.

"You're so skinny," the chestnut maidservant said.

It was true. Elsa had been amazed at how much weight had dropped from her body after her month long imprisonment in the tower. Madam Sophia was taking measures to correct that as well. The woman would sit with Elsa during every meal, ensuring that she eat every last bite. Elsa would not have eaten without Sophia's supervision. Her stomach seemed to be always in tatters, wondering when someone would come to tell her that Maximilian had changed his mind.

The chestnut maidservant stood and looped the string around Elsa's chest.

"Best add a a few knots to that," Madam Sophia told the maidservant. "I'm sure Lady Elsa will have filled out some more before her dresses are ready."

With the amount she was eating, Elsa was sure that would be true.

"Why am I being measured for new gowns?" Elsa asked. _Aren't I still a prisoner?_

_ "_Queen Emilia herself commanded it," Madam Sofia said. "You cannot continue wearing those rags. We will have smallclothes, hose, dresses, tunics, kirtles, shawls and cloaks ready for you in a week. I have seven seamstresses and twice and many apprentice girls set all other work aside to work on this."

"So many clothes," Elsa noted. _Why would they go through all this trouble?_

"The undergarments will all be white, of course, but lots of blues and greens for the dresses. Perhaps a nice red too. They'll all compliment your fair hair and skin." Madam Sophia continued as if Elsa had not spoken. "Have you finished with those measurements, girls?"

"Yes," the maidservants squeaked in unison.

A brisk knock rapped against the door. "That must be the boy with your midday meal," Madam Sophia said. But it wasn't the skinny kitchen lad carrying a covered platter. "Ser Aedan," Madam Sophia said, surprised.

Cold Sweat beaded against Aedan's brow, staining his hair and clumping it against his forehead. Elsa would have thought the man was nervous, if it weren't for the sand-stained leathers that spoke of the training yard. She could see the massive stretch of sand from her window. Elsa only found peace from the sound of shouts and training drills and the clash of weapons at night.

"Sophia," Aedan said, eyebrows momentarily rising. "I didn't realise. I can come back. . ."

"It's not a problem," Sophia said. "Just a moment." She looked over her shoulder and the two maidservants moved quickly to wrap a long blue wool shawl around Elsa's shoulders.

"So romantic!" one of the maids giggled.

"Hush, girl," Madam Sophia said sharply. "Don't bother Queen Elsa with your drivel."

The maid fell silent, but exchanged a bright smile with the other.

_Romantic?_

Madam Sophia closed the door behind Aedan after she allowed him into the room. He swept a twitching hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead. He looked so self-conscious standing here with four pairs of eyes staring at him waiting to see what he would do. He opened his mouth a crack, before looking between Madam Sophia and the maids. "Can we have the room a moment?"

"Oh . . . yes, of course!" Madam Sophia said. "Come, girls, quickly." She looked at Elsa. "We'll return to confirm the measurements in a few days. And I'll return with your meal shortly." Then to Aedan: "Don't you dare put your grubby hands on any of my silks," Madam Sophia warned.

"I wasn't going to," Aedan retorted. "But now I can't control myself."

Madam Sophia swatted him with one of the knotted strings.

"Your bruises look much better," Aedan said when Madam Sophia and the maidservants were gone.

Elsa touched her throat with her fingertips. The thick rope of purple and blue had turned into a blotchy mess of greens only a scarf could hide. The cut on her temple was healing nicely too. The air had done it good and now only a thin scab remained. Elsa felt like she should reply. "I heard you took me from the cage."

Aedan shook his head. "That was Ornsten."

"I thought so," Elsa replied.

"Has he come to see you?"

He hadn't, but Elsa wasn't going to let Aedan know that. She stared at him coldly and pursed her lips together. Aedan broke contact first, turning away to wander around the room Elsa was locked away in. It was a simple room, but much better than Elsa had been treated to in the last month. She had her own feather bed and a fireplace which always glowed with red embers. She even had her a copper hip bath in the corner. Bathing her had been Madam Sophia's first priority when the physician deemed Elsa well enough to move around.

"In a way this is kind of fitting," Aedan said idly, finger flickering through the pages of one of the books Elsa had been allowed. Elsa's slender eyebrow rose, but the Ovelian did not see. "The closest I've ever come to dying was in my first week in your country, and I'd wager the closest you've ever come was during your first week in mine. I'll carry my scar for the rest of my life, though I hope you won't be forced to carry yours."

Elsa didn't reply.

Aedan bit his lip. "Perhaps I shouldn't have come. For what it is worth to you, Lady Elsa, I'm glad that you are well."

_I'm far from _well_. . . _"Wait!" Elsa said, standing. Something in Aedan's voice spurred her.

Aedan paused, hand on the door.

"Why'd you come to see me?"

For a moment, she didn't think Aedan was going to answer. He stared at her, and something in his eyes made Elsa pull the shawl tighter around her body.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Elsa's eyebrows rose. "For what?"

Aedan shrugged and flashed a crooked smile. "For everything, I guess."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

On the morning Elsa's new dresses were to be ready, Madam Sophia's pair of giggling serving girls filled Elsa's hipbath with steaming hot water and scrubbed her head to toe until she glowed pink. The Queen's own handmaiden trimmed her nails and brushed and curled her blonde hair so it fell down her back in soft ringlets. She bought a dozen or so scents as well, and the serving girls had a quiet argument over which one they thought was loveliest. They settled on a frosty fragrance that smelled sweetly of wildflowers. They dabbed some of the fragrance on their fingers and touched Elsa behind each ear, under her chin, and then lightly on her fading collarbone.

Queen Emilia herself arrived with Madam Sophia, and watched as the maids dressed Elsa in her new clothes. The shift and smallclothes were all silk, but the dress itself shone with silver ivory and lined with silver silks. The skirts were long and full, the waist tight enough that Elsa had to hold her breath as they laced her into it. The sleeves were long and tight, stretching down below her wrists to hide the golden bands sealing her magic. They brought her new shoes as well, silver slippers to match the dress with a short heel that made Elsa feel much taller than she was.

"You look very beautiful," Madam Sophia said when she was dressed.

Queen Emilia's gaze was more critical. "A few gems, I think. Something to compliment the red."

_I'm not wearing red, _Elsa thought, confused.

The maids fetched a glittering necklace of pale moonstones framing a bloody ruby and hung it around her neck. When they were settled in place the queen nodded in satisfaction and smiled warmly. "You have been blessed, Lady Elsa. Kings would launch a thousand ships for beauty such as yours."

The serving girls nodded their agreement.

_Like your husband? _Elsa thought bitterly.

"The veil?" Queen Emilia asked Madam Sophia.

_Veil?_

Madam Sophia brought out a silky, see-through veil of silver and white lace.

And then Elsa knew. She looked at the veil with sudden dread. _A wedding veil. _The maids settled the frail piece on Elsa's head. She would have torn the thing away if she dared.

"No," Elsa blurted. "_No. _Not this!"

Queen Emilia looked at Madam Sophia. "Perhaps you should fetch the ice." Then, to Elsa. "This is all very sudden, I realise, but it really is for the best. You can cry if you wish, but please wait for the ice, otherwise your face will swell horribly."

"You can't do this to me!" Elsa's voice cracked. She could feel the tears building behind her eyelids. "I've done all that you've asked. What more do you want?"

"Quickly, Sophia!" the queen said sharply over her shoulder. "Sit down, Elsa." She took Elsa's arm and guided her so gently to a stool. "I know this must be hard. I had only known my husband a short while before we were wed and I remember how scared and nervous I was. Take refuge in the knowledge that your husband is good and kind and fiercely loyal. You will learn to love each other, I know it, as Maximilian and I learned to love."

A silent tear fell down Elsa's cheek. Madam Sophia came running with two cloth wrapped bundles in her hands. She handed one to a serving girl, who tipped Elsa's head back and pressed the bundle to her face. It was ice cold and made Elsa's breath catch sharply in her throat.

"She even looks pretty when she cries," Elsa heard one of the handmaidens whisper.

"Many woman are overcome before their weddings," Madam Sophia said sagely.

Elsa could not remember leaving the room or descending the steps, or crossing the yard to where a lovely carriage pulled by a pair of white horses awaited. Queen Emilia sat with her as the carriage took them through the city. She did not speak, and if she did Elsa wouldn't have heard. A dull ringing flooded her ears and not even a panicked thought could break through.

King Maximilian himself waited on the steps of the cathedral. The king was resplendent in red and gold, somehow managing to look even more glorious than he was at his ceremony barely a week ago. A line of cloaked soldiers separated him from the hordes of screaming townspeople flooding the streets. At first Elsa thought they were screaming in panic or rage, but Emilia's voice in her ear set her straight.

"They're here to see you," the queen said with a soft smile.

Maximilian met them at the top of the steps. He kissed Emilia's cheek and smiled warmly at Elsa. The smile even seemed to touch his eyes. "You look beautiful, Lady Elsa," he said courteously.

_You hate me_, Elsa thought coldly.

Maximilian was unperturbed. "As king, it falls to me to act as your father and guide you down the aisle."

Elsa took the news coldly and did not react. _Of course, _she thought bitterly.

"Your bridegroom is waiting." Maximilian took her arm and walked her into the cathedral. The cheers of the crowds followed them inside until the grand doors closed behind them. Ovelian nobles filled the pews, all standing and watching expectantly. A muttered sigh rippled through them as Maximilian took Elsa down the first stairs and lead her down the aisle. Elsa's eyes fell on the man waiting at the end of the aisle and a black fist squeezed her heart.

_No!_

Aedan waited before the bishop, hands clasped beneath his thick crimson cloak. He wore a black velvet doublet covered with silver scrolls and the waist and collar to match the silver of Elsa's dress. His stony masked slipped, but Elsa could not read the emotion flashing beneath.

_Why him?!_

Aedan clasped forearms with Maximilian and replaced him at Elsa's side. "You look very beautiful, Lady Elsa," he whispered, repeating the compliment delivered to her at every turn. Elsa hated him for that. "I'm sorry that this was so sudden . . . and so secret. I wished to tell you when I saw you, but Maximilian thought quiet was necessary." He bent his head closer and whispered. "I know I'm not the man you might have wanted, but there are far worse fates than a life with me."

In that moment, Elsa struggled to think of a single one.

The bishop waited for them, smiling dotingly.

"Come," Aedan said bitterly for her ears only. He offered her his hand. "Let us do our duty."

Elsa hesitated only a moment before laying her hand over his. Aedan led her to the marriage alter where the bishop waited to join their lives together. An older man standing on Aedan's side of the alter gave Elsa a reassuring smile and touched his greying beard. _That must be his father. _Maximilian followed them to the chancel and stood on Elsa's right, where her father would have stood.

The ceremony passed quickly, dreamlike. Elsa repeated prayers and vows without any passion in her voice. _How many times did Anna and I imagine our weddings?_ A shining tear slid down her cheek, and she heard a sigh ripple through many of the ladies in the crowd. _How many of those fools know the truth?_

When the final song had been sung, Aedan stood before her and unclasped his crimson cloak. He drew it about her shoulders, careful not to catch it on her veil.

"You may gaze upon your bride," the bishop said.

Aedan's fingers trembled as he took hold of Elsa's veil and drew it back.

"With this kiss, I pledge to thee my love and take you for my wife," Aedan recited woodenly.

"With this kiss I pledge to thee my love and take you for my husband," Elsa said coldly. She stood stiffly and made no attempt to move her head.

Aedan hesitated only a moment, before touching her waist with his fingertips and stepping closer. Standing this near to him, Elsa could smell the fresh-pressed lilac on his doublet. He bent his head and pressed his lips against the corner of her mouth.

Elsa had to squeeze her fingernails into her palms to keep from pushing him away.

The bishop raised his crook and swept it over their heads. "Under the eyes of God, I solemnly proclaim Aedan of House Beoulve and Elsa of Arendelle to be man and wife. From this day they are one flesh, one heart and one soul. From this day and forever more."

* * *

0.0.0

* * *

The wedding feast was held in the royal palace's grand, sweeping ballroom. There were over a hundred guests lining the tables and milling about the open, white-tiled space in the centre of the room. The white-lion banners of House Beoulve hung prominently overhead.

She and her husband had been ushered to a small table at the head of the ballroom. When the entered the guests burst into another round of applause. Maximilian was a whirlwind of energy, laughing loudly as he talked to different guests. He approached the wedding table before anyone else to offer Aedan and Elsa his congratulations.

Aedan grinned back and the two looked like a pair of boys who had just swiped a plate of warm cookies from a window. But when Maximilian's back turned, Aedan reached for the wine.

Her husband drank heavily, and barely touched his plate of food. Elsa picked at her plate before laying her knife down and settling back in her chair. The feast seemed to go on forever. She wanted it to be done, but she also dreaded its end. For when it did, the ladies would escort her to her wedding bed, whisper lewd jokes and advice in her ear, and prepare her for her husband. The men would do the same for Aedan, although he had to successfully perform some outstanding feat to earn the right to his marriage bed. She had heard stories of men who failed their feat and were doomed to wait outside the room all night. Most of those men injured themselves trying to get in.

Elsa only hoped that Aedan would fail his feat. He was certainly drinking enough to dull his senses.

As the food was being cleared away, the musicians began to play. She flinched as Aedan laid his hand over hers. "It's time to lead the dance, my love." His voice dripped sarcasm and smelled strongly of wine.

She let Aedan guide her from her chair and lead her onto the floor. The musicians chose a slow, sweet song that involved little more than swaying from side to side. "I'm not a great dancer," Aedan said, sounding bit self-conscious.

"No," Elsa agreed.

Aedan snorted with amusement and spun her around in complex step that made the crowd of nobles applaud. Elsa might have smiled and laughed, but the truth of this farce hung heavily overhead.

Other guests soon joined them on the floor, and the dancers formed the lines for a familiar step Elsa's knew in Arendelle. She met Aedan again, briefly, before she was taken by a tall man with a neat beard and a long moustache.

"I hoped I would have the chance to speak with you," the man said. "I am Garlan, Aedan's second oldest brother."

Elsa could not spot the resemblance, but then it may have been concealed by the beard.

"You'll struggle to spot the similarities," Garlan said as if reading her thoughts. "Matrim and I take after our mother, while Aedan is very much our father."

"He's a bastard," said Elsa bluntly.

"Not anymore, or else he would not be wed to you." Garlan pursed his lips, as if debating a thought. "My brother is a good man," he eventually said. "You should remember that, if nothing else."

Then, Elsa was spun away and found herself in the arms of Rickard Ashaela. He spoke politely, before spinning her to a short lord with patchy hair, and then to Ornsten, who looked very handsome in his crisp black doublet. "Are you well?" Ornsten asked.

"As well as can be hoped," Elsa replied.

"I know it may not seem like it sometimes, but Aedan will do right by you."

"As he did right by my captain?" Elsa shot back. Ornsten winced.

"That was war, Elsa."

"Did you ever find out what happened to Lennox's head?"

"Do you really wish to discuss this now?"

The dance took them away and Elsa spun around with a noble who reminded her uncomfortably of Lord Yeoman, before Ornsten took her again. "If you think your dances have been uncomfortable, look at your husband." Elsa followed Ornsten's eyes and saw Aedan dancing with a honey-haired girl. She was very pretty, with features much like the queen. Her cheeks were tinged with red and in the candlelight it seemed like her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

"Who is that?" Elsa asked, curious despite herself.

"That's Rosalind Ashaela, the queen's sister," Ornsten said. "They _were_ to be betrothed."

"What happened?" She would much rather have seen Aedan wed to this girl than herself.

"He had to marry you instead."

The music spun them apart before Elsa could reply. Lord Beoulve smiled at her with an almost fatherly expression on his aged face, before the dance brought her face-to-face with Maximilian.

Elsa stiffened as his hand touched hers, but Maximilian held it delicately. He was a skilled dancer, much better than any of her other partners had been. As he danced he spoke effortlessly. "My lady wife is concerned for you," he said.

"I can't think why," Elsa replied, tight-lipped. "She should not be concerned."

Maximilian smirked. "Yet she is. I saw your tears during the ceremony. They were very moving."

Elsa struggled to keep her face smooth. She broke away from Maximilian's stare and searched for Ornsten. _When will this song be over?_

"Are you looking for your kin?"

K_in? _Elsa's head whipped back. "What do you mean?"

Maximilian smiled. "Her time will come, and yours will follow, heir or no. I'm told Rathmore has been thinking of you."

Chills flooded Elsa's spine. It was time to change partners again, and Maximilian spun her away with an amused chuckle. Ornsten swept her away again, face filled with concern. Eventually she danced her way back into Aedan's arms. Her husband's face was unreadable. When the music ended, he stepped away from Elsa and retreated back to their table and his goblet of wine. Elsa followed him – not because she really wanted to, but she would rather sit at a table with him than remain on the floor with the painted, smirking lords.

The musicians quickly struck up another song and the dancing resumed. An hour passed, maybe a little more when Maximilian approached the table with Ornsten, Aedan's brothers and father and group of other young lords in tows. "It's time for your feat, brave soul," Maximilian crowed. He looked like he'd been drinking too.

Before Aedan could react (by this stage, Elsa was surprised he could even put one foot in front of the other), the lords seized him and hauled him out of the ballroom. Elsa was left alone for a few pleasant seconds before she remembered what her role in this ceremony was.

Queen Emilia came to the table and held out her hand for Elsa to take. "Come with us," she smiled reassuringly.

Elsa had no choice but to take the queen's hand.

"Max wanted the veil," Emilia told one of the noble ladies.

"Whatever for?"

Emilia shrugged as she unwound the fragile cloth from Elsa's head. "He didn't say."

One of the ladies volunteered to follow the men with the veil, while the others took Elsa through the palace. Lewd pieces of advice and jokes were whispered in her ears, flooding heat into her cheeks and ears. The queen was one of the worst by far, often saying things that made the other ladies descend in a flurry of giggles.

They took Elsa up to a room near the top of one of the tallest palace towers. It was draughty, but as the ladies assured Elsa, her husband would be along soon to warm her. Together they removed Elsa's wedding gown and wrapped her in a pale, shimmering shroud. They replaced the ruby and moonstone necklace when they were done. The ruby shone between Elsa's breasts. They let down her hair, playing with it until it framed her face and curled on her shoulders.

Soon enough, a chorus of roars and cheering echoed from the corridor, growing louder.

"That will be the men," Emilia said, ear's twitching. "I wonder if our dear Beoulve succeeded in his feat. I cannot imagine him failing, can you?"

Elsa didn't reply. _I hope he did_, she thought savagely.

"She looks so nervous," one of the ladies said.

"Do you remember your bedding?"

The lady shuddered. "It was horrible." She looked at Elsa and winked. "It's much better the second time."

"Sometimes the third."

"Or fourth."

The ladies collapsed into drunken giggles.

Then the door burst open and the noble lords filed in, dragging Aedan with them. The ladies immediately closed together and formed a protective shield around Elsa. "She's not yours to gawk at!"

"Where's the fun in that?" Elsa thought it was Garlan who shouted from somewhere near the back. The men laughed.

"Your knight has performed his feat," Maximilian roared. "Behold!" The men pushed Aedan forward until he was presented before women. His shirt and doublet had disappeared, and his trousers and boots were dripping wet and stained with mud. Elsa's veil was clutched in his hand, as silvery white as it had been when it was taken from her. A self-deprecating half-smile broke on Aedan's face and he rubbed the back of his neck while the ladies eyed him critically.

"What did you do to him?"

"He looks like he's been run through the stables!"

The men laughed.

"Go on then, out with you," Emilia said. "Leave the lovers in peace." Together the women half-ushered, half-pushed the men out of the bedchamber. Their jests and drunken shouts from outside. Emilia remained, standing between Aedan and Elsa with a small smile on her face. "Your bride," Emilia said and glided out of the way.

Elsa clutched the sheets to her chest, hiding her body from her husband. There was a hunger in his brown eyes.

"Have fun you two." Emilia closed the door behind her.

Aedan tore his eyes away from Elsa and went to throw open the window on the other side of the lofty chamber. She saw his body shiver with cold. The breeze was pleasant on her exposed skin. She looked down at the blankets and clenched her fists together.

After a moment, she heard the sound of Aedan pulling off his boots. One light thump followed another. He was handsome – she would have been a fool and a liar to think otherwise. She should be lucky she hadn't been given to a wrinkled old man, or a boy barely old enough for his voice to have deepened. The knowledge did not bring her the comfort it might have brought to another woman.

_He's scared too_, Elsa realised. Maybe that should have made her feel . . . something - something other than the hatred that coursed through her body when she looked at him. Before Ovelia came to Arendelle, she couldn't remember hating _anyone_. The only person that she had ever truly reviled was herself. The Maximilian invaded her country. Then Aedan had killed her captain and dishonoured his body. _I hate him – I hate all of them._ _Is he going to touch me? Kiss me again? Take me? _She felt every muscle in her body tense, dreading what might happen next. Her insides were a mess of pricking claws and blood-crippling fear.

_Don't show him._

"You are truly a lovely sight, Queen Elsa," Aedan said.

Her hate for him split through her dread. "I am no longer queen," Elsa spat at him.

"You are." If her tone bothered Aedan, he showed no sign. "Your blood can be spilled, but it cannot be taken away from you." A pause stretched through eternity. "You know what's expected of us tonight," Aedan said.

Elsa pressed the sheets to her chin.

"I've never forced myself on a woman before. I'll not start now."

Elsa started and looked at her husband. The scar Lennox had dealt him was thick and pink under his arm. _Is this another game? _"You mean?"

"I've no desire to share an unwilling bed, Elsa," Aedan said. "Maximilian and Emilia be cursed. I'll not lay a hand on you. I swear it."

"You won't?"

Aedan's mouth twisted in an amused half-smile. "Not ever."

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0.0.0

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Author's Note: Props if you can guess what inspired this chapter.

Thank you all for the reviews. I don't have a kink for powerful women in chains, by that way :)


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